The Snowy Hamlet

[dagmarstempf]

OOC: I have only put the members on the map, i will leave them to put there NPCs on there. Obviously me and Mac wont be on the map.

Dagmar and his Messerschmitt moved over the French countryside, with the sun beating pleasantly down into his cock-pit. However, it was by no means hot; but the bright sun, combined with the snow it was being reflected off made the already scenic French countryside look like something of a christmas card.

As Dagmar moved through the air with only the soft droning of his engine to disturb him he could help thinking, 'this is why i love flying, who would choose to be a tankie when you could become a pilot and see this.' Dagmar was meant to be on air cover for a squad of men led by a Finnish man that was new to the division.

However, because of the batch of snow that had hit earlier all Luftwaffe flights had been called off until the snow stopped. Luckily it had done just that and Dagmar was just catching up with them now as they approached a small hamlet. Lowering the plane to an altitude of about 500 feet he roared over the men below, tipping his wings, before pulling up and into the clouds. Some would have called it showing off, Dagmar preferred the term letting them know he had just arrived...


EDIT: Posting order will be the same as sign-up order. So me, Davies, Felix, Chuck.

[

[Charles Norris]

To an outside observer, it could have looked like the Submarine Spitfire was flown by a drunk. Side to side, up and down, it was enough to make anyone watching airsick. Although, Flight Lieutenant Charles Norris doubted there was anyone watching, the soldiers that he was told were out in the area were probably too busy dealing with their own business to notice the metal bird dancing high above them. And hopefully he had no company in the sky either. Charles assumed the snow storm that just passed though had grounded the luftwaffe long enough for him to take out his new spitfire out on a peaceful training run. He still hadn’t grown accustomed to the new aircraft and was taking this time to learn more of it’s strengthens and weaknesses. Already, during the last time he was out he had to pull it out of a nasty stall after pulling a turn too tight. But so far today, nothing like that had happened yet, and it’s been a peaceful little trip over the frozen French countryside, although he still has a fuel tank of gas and all the time in the world, so the trip could turn violent. That was another reason for his fancy flying, he could have been wrong about the snow delay and now needed to be able to see every angle for a possible Messerschmitt attack. Although he was only out for a casual spin in the Spit, he was still armed and each of the machine guns were fully loaded. He was ready for anything, because anything could happen.

[Mark Davies]

OOC: I've changed me and my men to being square on the map because it's easier to modify on future maps than circles/ovals. Davies is red, Corporal Ashworth is blue and the privates are all dark green.

Here is a list of the NPC's I'm bringing, for Nathan's sake.

- NPC: Corporal Henry Ashworth
- NPC: Private Russell Chandler
- NPC: Private David Sillitoe
- NPC: Private Rhys Gethin
- NPC: Private David Taylor
- NPC: Private Michael Tyne
- NPC: Private Cameron Dissain
- NPC: Private Jonathan Thomas
- NPC: Private Peter Forde

---

Mark Davies moved grimly along the dirt road, the only noise to be heard the dull thud of ten pairs of boots marching along. The orders from High Command were simple, the task itself was not. Take the area of land knows as the Hébété and kill as many Nazi bastards as you can find. Oh, and try not to get killed in the process.

The Warrant Officer glanced back at the troop of men who marched pleasantly behind him; Davies felt an old affection for his men. They were his Second Squad and, truthfully, his most trusted.

His second-in-command on this particular expedition would be Corporal Ashworth, an experienced NCO that had recently returned from Belgium, serving as a temporary transfer to the 3ID. He was lucky to have survived; from what dispatches Davies had heard, few had not succumbed to the darkness.

Behind Ashworth marched eight men; Chandler, Gethin, Sillitoe, Tyne, Taylor, Dissain, Thomas, Forde. Just names. But, admittedly, names that could fight.

"What's the plan of actions, sir?" asked Ashworth, as Davies drew to an arubt stop. "Where do we take up our positions?"

"Get to the abandoned building down the road," replied the Warrant Officer after a moment's consideration. He had heard rumours that the enemy would be flanked by air support and the more cover they could find, the better. "Set up weapons by the window in case of a surprise attack, those who can. The rest of you, sit tight."

There was a ripple of agreement at this; most of the privates knew little of tactical warfare but they knew that if they were stationed within a building, then they were less likely to freeze to death.

The men continued marching.

OOC: I think the pilots should be shown on the map.

[∬: Felix Odegaard]

Felix could just barley see his breath, but the cold metal of the rifle against his cheek still stung. Keeping his eyes and ears as alert as he could, Felix and the twelve SS privates behind him moved as quick as they could.

Felix had been assigned to take his squad and engage some Allied soldiers on the French countryside. There was a Messerschmitt fighter covering him and his squad, which made him some what comfortable. Hopefully Felix and his soldiers didn't have to worry about being attacked from the air. The Norwegian was seizing this battle as a chance to prove himself to the Waffen-SS Das Reich!, for he hadn't been in true combat yet.

A load roar sounded above Felix and the privates, sending them diving to he ground, most of them getting a mouthfull of snow and dirt."Gott verdammt..." Felix muttered, seeing the cross of the German military on the bottom of the wings. Obnoxious Luftwaffe... "Get up, faul Bastarde! Wir haben eine Schlacht zu kämpfen! Felix hissed lowly the men hopped up. He would soon show the pilot how well the ground forces fought.

A stretch of trees spread out behind him, and a small dirt path snaked it's way through the snowy French soil. Another small grove of trees layed to Felix's left, and thats were he was headed. Not wanting to alert any enemies in the area, Felix waved over to the small grove and nodded. His men quickly trotted toward the trees, hoping to use them as cover.

The privates took up stations within the trees, laying there rifles down on branches that stuck oddly out. Felix picked out a nice sturdy tree to set his rifle on, and decided to wait and see if they were going to attack or if Felix and his men would be on the offensive.

TRANSLATION

God damn it...

Get up, lazy bastards! We have a battle to fight!




The Brown dots are the German privates.

[Nathan Whyte]

Just confirming this is going ahead, and a reminder to the pilots that the cold can cause problems with engines and instruments.

Consider yourselves warned...

Next Post:[/u] Stempf[/color]

[Mark Davies]

Davies could sense that the enemy were near, he only wished he couldn't. He had made a quick sweep of the immediate area and had found no opposition but the other end of the river was German territory and it was almost certain that there would be a large force preparing for battle. Davies knew his men were skilled and experienced but he was expecting the worst. Admittedly, he always expected the worst.

"They're in the trees," advised Private Taylor, who stood by the window. Davies followed his gaze and could indeed see a patch of woodlands on the other side of the riverbank; he could too see movement amongst the trees. Lots of movement.

"Corporal," said the Sergeant Major. "Take three men with you. Hold your ground in the woodlands to the East and open fire on the enemy. Stay low. Understand?"

Ashworth nodded stiffly and gestured for three privates - Gethin, Sillitoe and Thomas - to follow him out of the safety of the building. They kept close to the walls in case there were German stragglers on their side of the river but kept a steady pace. They rounded the building after a few seconds and moved into the woodlands that stretched around them. Ashworth gestured for the men to follow him to the edge of the forest.

They spread out and rested their weapons on the steady branches of the many trees that surrounded them. The shots would not be easy but they were possible - very much so. The river, while deep, was not particularly vast and so that wouldn't be much of a problem. The enemy would be well-protected by trees, however, so that could be a thorn in the Britons' sides.

Ashworth breathed in and out and forced all random thoughts from his mind. He immersed himelf completely in the job at hand and kept his eyes glued on his first target, a private who stood less-protected than his comrades, who thankfully seemed oblivious to the Allies' presence. Without hesitation, Ashworth squeezed the trigger and a few seconds later, the privates at his side too opened fire, sending two shots each towards individual targets.

The corporal turned his gaze on the man he guessed to be the enemy commander. Alongside Gethin, arguably the most accurate of the privates, he sent a shot slicing through the air towards his stomach.

With the shots fired, the four men dived to the floor and lay prone, using the many trees as cover, making their bodies as small a target as possible. They knew that the enemy would return fire, it was only natural. Although they had brought themselves into defensive positions, their weapons were still trained on the opposite woodland area. They were ready for them.

[Nathan Whyte]

Moderation Post

[/u][/center]

Is it just me, or do those other staff members seem to be slacking?

• Moving through the trees, the frozen ground proved to be a pain and cracked underfoot like <random similie involing Rhys's mum >, and basically very loudly.
  
  
• This was enough for the German's to bring themselves to bear on the wood and aim their rifles.
  
  
• As Ashworth moved in to a small clearing, he spotted the German rifles before the German's saw him. With a quick hand signal, all of the Allies got down and brought trees between them and the Germans. Ashworth managed to retain this stealthiness as he brought his rifle around.
  
  
• He fired one shot at a German, and, unfortunately, as he shot, a shiver took him. This however, proved to be a stroke of luck. As his body moved, it perfected his aim, and caused the bullet to hit the German's head, and slide through the temple, sending a lovely pink spray out of the other side.
  
  
• German counter-fire quickly came on, but Ashworth managed to roll behind a tree and avoid being hit.

I'm gonna be using the map a lot, so please upload a "clean" map with no lines of movement/fire as well as the regular one. One line indicates wounded, a cross indicates dead.



Next Post:[/u] Felix[/color]

[∬: Felix Odegaard]

Men I am commanding-

- NPC: Johannnes Rott
- NPC: Xaver Koller
- NPC: Oswald Gratz
- NPC: Theophil Montreal
- NPC: Klemens Langendorf
- NPC: Klaus Everling
- NPC: Wolfhart Platz
- NPC: Irnfried Stoeckert
- NPC: Hugo Bender
- NPC: Nikolaus Walden
- NPC:. Ekkehard Wittenzellner
- NPC: Dionys Utz




Felix Odegaard jumped as a bullet whizzed by him on the right and struck one of the privates in the left temple, blood flying out this way and that. Felix squinted to see who had been the unlucky one. The body of Pvt. Nikolaus Walden lay on the ground, a line of blood snaking through the snow. He had been dead as soon as the bullet hit him. At least it was just one of the recruits, and not one of his friends. As more bullets whizzed passed, Felix turned his gaze to his attackers.

Felix could not see them well, but they looked as if they were British, and one was waving his hands as if giving orders. Felix knew which one to shoot for. "Holen Sie sich und Ziel für die nördlichsten Soldat!" Felix ordered loudly, and went down on the snowy ground. Felix brought his rifle up to his blue eye, aiming down the barrel and through the "iron sights". Steadying the rifle with his hands, Felix placed the sights over the northern soldier's head, took a deep breath, and slowly squeezed the trigger. Slowly. Felix felt the recoil and moved the bolt quickly. Repeating the cycle three times, the privates around him started squeezing off rounds at one of the soldiers, shooting four shots each. After he fired his fourth round, Felix ducked behind a tree to take cover for counter fire.


TRANSLATION

Get down and aim for the northernmost soldier!

[Nathan Whyte]

Moderation Post

[/u][/size][/center]

Hokay.

- The problem with shooting at the northernmost soldier, was that there was a great big tree in the way, which absorbed pretty much all the bullets and protected the soldier from all harm.
- The southern most soldier was less lucky, as an opturtunistic soldier spotted the Private and shot, sending a bullet in to his lower chest, piercing in to the small intestine.

Felix, try and be a bit more descriptive, and you may have more success with your shots. A large mess of lines doesn't mean much really. They could have shot angry gazes for all I know.

Rhys, do you move-thang[/u][/color]

[Mark Davies]

"Man down! Man down!"[/i] roared Private Gethin, as he saw Private Thomas cut down before him. It was a minor wound but painful.

"Hold your ground, lad," said Ashworth, keeping low as the enemy continued fighting. "The ladies love a scarred soldier,"

Thomas merely grunted. Suddenly, the firing stopped. Maybe the enemy thought they had wiped out the Allied attack? Ashworth swallowed and, his rifle balanced on the branch of a thick tree, signalled for his men to open fire once more. He brought his hand down in a swift, definitive arc and without hesiation, the men began firing again, including Thomas, gritting his teeth through the pain.

The firing from the Western flank was a distraction. The real attack was about to begin.

***

Simultaneously.

"Men! Fall out! Come on, you bunch of fairies!"

The bulk of the force marched through the small trench that led from the small building towards the main dirt road. They could hear firing in the distance, British or German, Davies didn't know. At least it meant that the enemy would be concentrating on Ashworth's small party. They needed every advantage they could grab and surprise was as good as any other.

Davies and his men reached the dirt road and moved quietly across the river. The second they set foot on enemy land, they charged. Officers could spend hours detailing out flawless tactical formations but it all boiled down to the same thing; on the battlefield, men turned into animals.

Davies reckoned that it would take the enemy at least five to ten seconds to turn away from the Western flank and to open fire on Davies and his men, more if Ashworth was firing on them. They were like sitting ducks. They were trapped on two sides.

"Open fire!" roared Davies. The men had spread out in single file and each man had a direct view on the small patch of woodland that held the enemy. While the trees were thick, Davies was confident. His men were accurate and his Bren Gun was more than enough to rip trees in a matter of seconds.

The men on both sides redoubled their efforts and within a split second, the air was thick with bullets. He stood directly to the side of the forest. Usually he would have felt vulnerable out in the open but now he felt powerful. The enemy was tripped.

Davies' men and Ashworth's men sent wave after wave of bullets towards the enemy, presumably unable to retalliate remotely, seeing as they were being fired on from two sides.

After maybe fifteen seconds, Davies signalled for his men to withdraw. His five men moved backwards into a small patch of woodlands by the river; Ashworth's stayed where they were. All nine men kept their weapons trained on the enemy's woodlands. Davies smiled grimly to himself. Guerrilla warfare, he loved it.

Even if it wasn't an English invention....

First Assault

Withdrawal

Clean Map

[Nathan Whyte]

Random Ranting That Decides Who Lives

[/u][/size][/center]

• Well, lets see. The guys in the trees, y'know, the Brits? Well, the Germans knew they outnumbered the Brits, so they weren't afraid to return fire. Which they did.
  
  
• Cpl. Ashworth was the recipient of this. A round smashed into his right thigh, splintering the bone. Needless to say, this is unbeliebably painful, and he is only just holding on to conciousness. His screams of agony let the enemy know he was hit, along with his Allies who have "gone to ground" and are taking cover.
  
  
• Ashworth isn't neccesarily in a life threatening position at the moment. However, it could change ovr time. The main artery wasn't hit, so that's a stroke of luck. Still, too much strain could make a massive difference.
  
  ---
  
  And now the main part.
  
• The firing from the forest guys was a godsend. The massive amount of firing gave them the cover that they needed to get up to the treeline.
  
  
• The fire proved to be bloody effective. Three enemy guys were killed almost instantly, whilst two more were wounded. One recieved a calf wound, cutting neatly through the flesh. The other was a rather messy wound that ricoched off of the hip bone, cutting up the flesh and muscle. It is very painful and lfie threathening.
  
  
• When the Allies retreated, the Axis got A in to G and fired back. One private recieved a wound on his back, the bullet scraping along his spine cutting a selection of nerves. He fell to the ground in the open land, and can't really move. Further damage will be revealed as he tries to use his body.
  

Map:
img10.imageshack.us/img10/8844/propmapclean.jpg

Feeeeeelix....[/u][/color]

[∬: Felix Odegaard]

OOC: Sorry, no translations. A bit pressed on time.

The Norwegian Rottenfuhrer curled the sides of his mouth up into a smile, exposing his white, wolf-like teeth. One of the private’s shots entered one of the Brit’s lower chest, blood spurting onto the picture perfect snow. The other Allies seemed to be in dismay as their comrade was wounded, and one of the SS troops squeezed of a lucky shot, cut through his thigh, the severed veins and tendons pouring out blood, and he screamed bloody murder. Death was something Felix enjoyed. He enjoyed it very much.

But the Scandinavian’s smile disappeared as a small group of British soldiers crept up behind the German’s position, taking the helpless SS soldiers by surprise. The ugly rattling sound of a light MG first alerted Felix of the oncoming threat, and bullets whizzed through the air, thudding into trees, rocks, snow, and German flesh. Felix’s vision became hazy as blood splattered from wounded and dead Germans, the red bodily fluid spattered allover the sleeves of his winter-issue woolen greatcoat. He stumbled back as his mind drifted back to Norway, the summer fjords, the winter sledding, happier times. But his mind snapped back to the present as a bullet came dangerously close to catching Felix in the left shoulder. Quickly! Mount your bayonets! If you are unable to run, stay in the forest and cover us. Germany will know of your sacrifice.” Felix roared as he mounted his bayonet on the end of his rifle and quickly gave the order to charge the Brits in the trees. They all bolted out from the deathtrap of a forest and ran east, dashing through a shallow section of the river. They quickly entered the forest, stabbing and slashing at anything that moved. Felix quickly jabbed at the man who was screaming, aiming for the stomach or intestines.

After about thirty seconds of trying to mutilate the unlucky British soldiers, Felix and whatever able-bodied troops ran out of the second stretch of trees, stopping at an old house. Three of you! Take cover in the house!” Felix yelled, and a triplet of soldiers barged into the old dwelling. The rest of the SS men circled around the house, coming to where they had a good line of sight at where the British had fallen back too. A few dropped to their knees as Felix gave the order to open up fire. The Rottenfuhrer surveyed the group, and picked out a private near the edge of the tree line. The Norwegian slowly pulled the trigger, and a bullet whizzed out of the barrel, hopefully hitting the unfortunate private. After every soldier fired, Felix and his men quickly retreated to the building to await the British response.

Phase 1:



Phase 2:



Phase 3:

[Daniel Brennan]

Moderation Post:

Hello, my name is Dan and I will be your new Mod-marker for the remainder of the flight... er, I mean battle.

Actions:
Felix Odegaard:

• The Britsh forces under the command of Corporal Ashworth presumed the Germans would be too bloodied and battered from Davies' assault to fight anymore and they had nearly already begun to celebrate when Felix mounted his near suicidal bayonet charge. Under ordinary circumstances, the men with Felix would have refused to do such an idiotic maneuver, but his brisk orders came so quickly that they didn't have time to think about it.
  
  
• The German's didn't get across unopposed, though. The injured men in the tree's weren't able to give much covering fire at all and so although they were suprised, the British were able to fire three volleys of fire before the Germans were upon them. unfortunately, they were panicking and thus their shots weren't very accurate. Two Germans were struck before they even reached the stream. The first one took a bullet through his right leg and he collapsed to the ground in pain. The second only received a minor flesh wound. A bullet from a Lee Enfield hit his little finger on his right hand and ripped it right off, before bouncing off the soldiers Kar 98. The man was so filled with adrenaline that he didn't even notice the injury until after the charge.
  
  
• A third man was hit by a bullet in the lower stomach. The wound itself wasn't fatal, it merely knocked the wind out of the man and he fell to the ground. Unfortunately he was crossing the stream as this happened and he fell into the deep end. He was dragged under by the strong current and was too weak to put up much of a fight; his body continued on down the stream and will likely never be found again.
  
  
• Corporal Ashwood and Co were really panicking as the majority of the German soldiers made it safely across the stream and they fired one last volley before the Germans were upon them. Two bullets tore through the chest of one unlucky German and one of them hit his heart. He be dead.
  
  
• There was no time to work their bolts again one last time and so two of the Privates jumped in front of their Corporal to pretect him in his injured state, while another of them chickened out altogether and ran for the hills. The two Privates were mauled mercilessly by the German bayonets; the Germans were even angrier because of their comrades that fell along the way and so although the two Privates put up a brave fight, they were killed in under ten seconds and Corporal Ashwood met the same fate.
  
  
• Because a large number of them fell along the way, the Germans never fired at Davies. They just moved into the building.
  

Wow, that was really fun to mark.
Map to come in a sec:


~Dan

[Mark Davies]

Davies watched the German counter-attack and watched with an almost gory fascination as his own men were ripped to shreds before him. He felt no sadness for their deaths. They were soldiers and death was a natural hazard. He only felt a slight irritance at the enemy, alongside a grudging acceptance of a move well played.

His men were grim and steadfast. Ready to fight. Ready for revenge. Davies would be all too happy to give it to them. He would have to leave the wounded man - Forde - where he was. He only hoped that the man would be able to hold out until the battle's end. If Davies' plan proved succesful, then he wouldn't have to wait long.

"OK, lads," he said. "It's imperative that we stay stealthy, alright? If you don't bloody watch it, you'll be going home tonight with a bayonet lodged so far up your arse, we can see the point through your tongue. You will make your way to the enemy building; I will head to the North side, you to the South. I will take your rifle, Russell, and you will take my Bren. Now, you, Russell, will enter the smaller part of the building from the door and destroy any guards with the Bren; there should be no more than one, at a stretch two. With superior firepower, you should be alright. The gunfire will serve as the first distraction. If you fall - and there is no reason to assume that you willl - Disspain will step in and finish him off for you."

"As soon as Russell enters the building, you, Tyne, will head to the nearest window of the main building with this rock," at this, he picked up a perfectly round stone, roughly the size of a grenade but not overly heavy. "You will lob it into the building. They will think it is a grenade as they are not exactly blessed with brains. I meanwhile, will have made my way around the back of the house. As soon as they are distracted by your...grenade...I will lob a grenade of my own into the house. Only this one is rather more deadly," at this, Davies patted the frag attatched to his belt. "Take up posts by the windows. If there are any survivors from the blast, train your weapons on the bastards and I will negotiate terms. Understand?"
The privates all nodded. They understood perfectly.

"Right," grinned Davies. "Come on, then,"

***

The men made their way across the bridge-like path towards the enemy-controlled building. As Davies crawled through the grassy area to the back of the house, the privates darted into the lesser path that led directly to the door of the smaller half of the building. Russell, armed with Davies' machinegun, charged through the front door; his finger was on the trigger before he had even entered the house. Bullets flew thick and fast; the lone German soldier didn't stand a chance.

The second Russell had entered the building, Tyne made his way towards the window, making sure to keep down and out of sight. The gunshots from the smaller half of the building would undoubtedly keep them distracted long enough for the private to make sure he could make his way to the building undetected. As soon as he neared the glassless pane, he threw the stone through and then dived to the snowy floor outside.

The split second the stone flew through the window, Davies appeared at the back of the building. Smiling grimly and confident that the Germans would be too preoccupied with the gunfire and "grenade" tossed his frag into the building, after pulling the pin and counting to three swiftly in his head.

He too dived down following the throw, a reactive instinct he had picked up from many years of grenade-throwing. He smiled. He was looking forward to the aftermath of the assault...

[Daniel Brennan]

Moderation Mark

Davies:

• The order to move out was given and the men obeyed. The move was going fine until the part that Davies branched off into the trees. Then they were spotted by one of the wounded Germans. He screamed bloody murder, alerting the Germans to the presence of the British.
  
  
• The Germans rushed out of the house to see what was happening and caught the British just as they turned around to see what the screaming was. The Germans opened fire straight away and one of the British was cut down with a bullet through his thigh. The rest of the British proceeded to run off the side of the road and take cover in the snow. All except Davies, who was already in the trees. He adapted to the situation and took out his grenade here. He gave it a toss and it landed very close to the Germans, who were unaware of his presence. One Private was killed straight away, one is fatally injured and will die soon and the other has one of his legs completely mangled.
  
  
• The rest of the Germans retreated back a small bit and the British stayed where they were. I would advise either side to retreat now. They have taken heavy casualties and any kore attempts to assault the enemy might result in you getting captured or, at the very worst, killed.
  

A map shall be uploaded now.


~Dan