The Battle of the Outpost

[Aksel Bavenn]

OOC: I've included a random NPC in my post to give us a reason for being there. He isn't on the divisional roster, he won't fight and he's not on the map. Just to point out.

The black-blue square is Aksel, the dark blue represents the NPC's.

"Kommen Sie auf einen weiteren Schritt...guter Mann kommen..."

The darkness swept across the freezing forest like a beast raring down on its pray. A dull light fought heroically against the blackness' might, but already it was ebbing away. If you were to look upon it from a vantage point in the starless sky, you would see nothing. Nothing but five small figures scurrying through the undergrowth.

Aksel had been part of a small scouting party on behalf of the sizable Hitlerjunge force stationed in Northern France. It had all been going so well. And then the shots had come.

A squad of American soldiers had tried their luck, the fact that their targets appeared to be slightly disshevled midgets notwithstanding. As bullet after bullet sliced through the air, the boys had stood to fight and, with the blood of two of the enemy seeping into the dirt, the Americans had retreated, their tails tucked between their legs. But one of them had been lucky. A shot had slashed into one of the boy's - a Rhottenfuhrer by the name of Achel -. He had been thrown to the floor instantly, a tissue of blood blemishing his tunic just above the lung. He was dying. And it didn't look like there was anything the boys could do about it.

Achel was larger than the others, being seventeen or so, and so carrying him had been a chore for his companions. Nevertheless, he was a brave soldier and was walking as best he could, supported by Aksel and his companions, Markus, Krause, Adelbert and Wolf. They were tired but they were resolute. If Achel was to die, then at least no other member of their party would follow him into the shadows.

"Es ist ein Haus unter den Bäumen!" hissed Krause excitedly. "Wir können die Rottenfuhrer gibt, und wir können ihn gut Stich und ordnungsgemäße!"

Aksel followed the boy's gaze and saw, sure enough, a small building in the near distance. His heart sunk. The sillhouettes within promised that there was at least one man standing guard.

"Gewehre aus, Männer," he said grimly, unslinging his own weapon. "Wir werden kämpfen,"

Translations

Es ist ein Haus unter den Bäumen! Wir können die Rottenfuhrer gibt, und wir können ihn gut Stich und ordnungsgemäße!
- There is a house amongst the trees! We can take the Rottenfuhrer there; we can stitch him up good and proper!

Gewehre aus, Männer. Wir werden kämpfen.
- Rifles out, men. We're going to fight.

[jackomac]

Jack was not enjoying his night out one bit. Just as he was getting ready to get some sleep back at HQ when a Lieutenant had come up to him looking very rushed. "Jack" he said "gather your men, quickly." "But" Jack started. The Lieutenant cut across him "No buts just get as many men as you can find and meet me in the briefing room." Ten minutes later Jack and the only two of his men he could find were in the briefing room. "A yank scouting party engaged a group of German soldiers here" the had been told as the Lieutenant pointed at map. "We want you to make your way to this small house, once your there just keep a watchful eye, if you see anything size up the force and make a decision about whether to engage."

They had walked through the French country side, as the sun dropped slowly in the sky, heading for the horizon, the air got colder and colder until eventually Jack was shivering. Him and two of the privates under his command, Joe Smith and Harry Morre had moved through the darkness for about one and a half hours until eventually they had reached this hut in the middle of the woods. After checking every corner they settled down, set up there sleeping bags and put one person at a time on watch.

After they had done a few watches each the time was approaching 8:35 and the sun was basically none existent now. Harry was on watch and Jack and Joe were trying to catch some sleep before there watches. As Harry looked out into the woods he was thinking of everything from if he would ever get home to what he was going to eat when they got back to HQ tomorrow. The last thing on his mind was a group of enemy soldiers heading straight for there position. This was why, upon first glance, he didn’t believe his own eyes when he saw a group soldiers heading toward them through the woods. Running too the back of the house he started shaking Jack and whispering "sir, sir, wake up sir." Stirring Jack murmured back with his face in the jacket he was using as a pillow. "What?" "Well" started Harry "there are a load of soldiers whispering in German out there and, well, there...small" Jack's head raised from his pillow as he turned to look at Harry with a look of confusion on his face "Small?"

[Aksel Bavenn]

Yes, there was no doubt about it. The building was well-guarded against attack; Aksel couldn't tell exactly how many men were within but then, it only took one determined man to rip the shreds out of an entire platoon. He swallowed hoarsely. Of the group he was one of the youngest but was looked upon loosely as a sort of leader. He didn't feel like a leader. He felt like a young boy alone in a daunting forest. Well, not alone exactly. There was a detatchement of agitated British soldiers to keep him company. Excellent.

"Wolf," he said, speaking out to his companions in the darkness. "Mit mir. Wir können versuchen, um sie in die Vorlage aus dem Süden, als eine Ablenkung, damit die anderen können nach vorne schieben. Der Rest von euch, Angriff aus dem Westen. Wir treffen sich wieder in das Gebäude. Wenn wir dann noch am Leben, das ist," he sighed and nodded grimly, speaking in a tone braver than he felt. "Nun ... viel Glück,"

Gesturing for Wolf to follow him through the dense trees, he stayed deadly silent, a shadow flickering through the undergrowth. The element of surprise would be a great help to the firm group. And so, they kept as silent as mice as they made their way among the trees, each one crouching behind their sturdy cover, their rifles trained on the two doorways before them, ready to unleash hell if anyone appeared.

Aksel swallowed hoarsely and furrowed his eyebrows, his eyes glued to the Southern doorway, his grip tightening on the rifle that had saved his life so many times. His finger hovered over the trigger. If he saw a Briton move, then the Briton in question would never see anything ever again.

Translations

Wolf. Mit mir. Wir können versuchen, um sie in die Vorlage aus dem Süden, als eine Ablenkung, damit die anderen können nach vorne schieben. Der Rest von euch, Angriff aus dem Westen. Wir treffen sich wieder in das Gebäude. Wenn wir dann noch am Leben, das ist. Nun ... viel Glück.

-Wolf. With me. We can try to force them into submission from the South; serve as a distraction so the others can push forwards. The rest of you, attack from the West. We'll meet up again in the building. If we're still alive by then, that is. Well...good luck.

[jackomac]

Jack jumped up and pushed his sheet of himself. "Wake Joe up and ready your guns." Jack picked up his own Lee Enfield and checked the magazine on it was firmly in place. They must of been seen by now, how could he have been stupid enough to leave the oil lamp on. But never mind that now, they had more important things to worry about, like not dying. He could hear German voices, whispering through the darkness. It was enough to send shivers down his spine, this would be the first time he would ever face combat.

Joe was awake now and looking at Jack "Small? What does that mean?" he exclaimed to Jack, Harry had obviously told him of the situation. "It may just have been the way Harry saw them." replied Jack. However, he new perfectly well this wasn't true, all of the Sergeant’s at HQ had been told a few weeks ago that the Hitler Youth were operating in this area, but he didn't want to tell Joe and Harry that, he didn't want them to be having second thoughts about shooting these kids right in the heat of battle. "OK heres the plan" Jack started "Leave all the lights on and put the oil lamp by the door." "Why, sir?" said Harry. "Just do as I said private" he said in a harsh whisper. Jack new that if the oil lamp was by the door then the wind would make it flicker from time to time and make it look as though there were still people in here.

"Done" said Harry a second later. "OK then, follow me and pray like f*ck" They went to one of the rear doors of the house and got down onto the freezing floor of the forest, and started crawling. Too make sure they made minimal noise they used the slowest but safest type of crawling. The used there tip toes to move there body's forward mearly inches before sliding the arms forward and in front of them and repeating, over and over and over again. They moved like this fore about a minute and a half and managed to move about 15 meters. This would have to do, he turned and preformed 2 hand signals, the first meaning stop, be ready and the second meaning fix bayonets. Although Jack didn't currently have one he new his two privates did. All he could do now was wait for the sounds of footsteps.

[Aksel Bavenn]

Aksel breathed calmly and smoothly, the steady rhythm of his chest moving in and out calming his stance. He watched hawk-like as the enemy left their defensive position, crawling behind the cluster of trees to the North of the forest. He was no military tactician, but he knew that the Britons had moved into a terrible position. A flanking manouvere would be only too easy. A two-pronged attack to cut them off. It was a commander's dream.

He turned to Wolf and in that glance, he knew that his companion understood the situation. Aksel tightened the grip on his rifle and brought it to his shoulder, furrowing his eyebrows tightly as he aimed his weapon directly at the skull of one of the enemy. On all fours, they were easy targets and withdrawing weapons whilst partaking in dog impressions was never easy. The man was a private, it seemed. Not that it mattered. All that mattered was that he was going to die.

Aksel knew that when sniping you only ever got one perfect shot. One opportunity to strike the enemy in the jugular; the very first shot loosed could very well determine the outcome of the skirmish he had found himself in. His hands firm, his aim true, he breathed in and out soothingly and pulled the trigger.

The split second after he had fired, he heard three gunshots erupting from the nearby cluster and knew that the rest of the party had also taken the initiative. Wolf sent a shot later than his companions, the perfectionist taking his time to secure a particularly well-aimed shot. Aksel fired once more, this time at a different target a few paces behind his first hopeful victim, before melting back into the shadows, jutting back behind the group of trees he had secured as cover, Wolf joining him a second later.

He smiled encouragingly at him, in an expression braver than he felt, and waited for the inevitable return fire. The situation was simple, he realised. It was kill or be killed. And he had a funny little feeling that death wouldn't suit him very well. Keeping his rifle trained through the branches of the tree, he kept his eagle-eye on the enemy, adrenaline coursing through his body.

Actions



Final Positions

[∬: Erhard Strumfelder]

Moderation Post

Hitlerjunge Bavenn

• Firing off shots at the British squad, the distance has compromised the accuracy, and the bolt action rifles have done little.
  
• One shot did however strike Sergeant Sowerby in the left shoulder. It tore through the flesh and exited, without hitting anything major. It is painful but minor. Lifting heavy object will be difficult, and your aim will suffer slightly.
  
• The shots from the darkness helped to suppress the British troops, but the five muzzle flashes have highlight their enemy’s position to them.
  

- Strum

[Edward"Butcher"McMillan]

Moderation Post:

The following actions have been made:

Aksel - firing the first shot ( and yes it is always the best chance) your enemy coming up on the larger group of armed children were already in a low posture, but your shot was in line with two of them.

- The shot just missed the first as children carrying bolt action rifles would have the hardest time steadying the bulky weapons and struck the man behind him in the lower abdomen region, grazing the top rear rim of his pelvic bone on the way out, oddly enough missing any major organs.

- The cracked pelvic bone has crumpled the man in the rear of your enemy, as they were focused on the other group of children.

- Once dropped the remainder of the enemy troops hit the dirt out of instinct.

- The following four shots, three almost immediately after whizzed overhead, the final shot having been taken quite good care of impacted in the dirt directly in front of the first man, blasting leaves, dirt, and the such into his face with great force, he will have trouble seeing in the next post.

- Beyond that Aksel has taken great cover, as have the Allied forces, the rest of the children, although not stated (HINT, maybe you should start listing such things, also helps to create longer posts) will more than likely follow suit.[/s]

Next post: Jack

-JT

EDIT
Well Strum I guess you beat me to it...by 8 minutes [/color]

[jackomac]

"Sh*t, sh*t" yelled Jack. The pain in his shoulder was making the rest of his body actually feel warm in the freezing night. How the f*ck did they spot us he thought to himself. Forget it, no time for that "you two attack now i'l cover" Jack new he wasn't going anywhere quick with his shoulder in this much pain. His two privates jumped up and fired off shots toward the the nearest group of enemy soldiers before charging, bayonets raised, and continued firing shots as they charged toward the enemy.

Simultaneously Jack brought his gun up to rest on the ground before him and fired one shot BANG two shots BANG three shots BANG 4 BANG he continued firing his entire magazine of 8 shots toward the group of enemy's furthest away. After his fired his last shot he quickly fixed another magazine into his gun and waited in the silence. The cold was traveling up his spine and this time he wasn't sure if it was the freezing night or the fear about what would happen next. Either his private attack had gone well and they now had the upper hand or it had gone wrong and...well Jack tried not to think about it. He new that Germans wouldn't be expecting them to attack so suddenly after there first shots. At any rate, he lay there, in the darkness; with his sight on the trees he had just been shooting at, waiting for movement...







Finishing Positions

[∬: Erhard Strumfelder]

Moderation post

Melee, never a nice thing.

Sergeant Sowerby

• Firing off two shots at the group of three boys none of them were hit, but it did force them down, taking cover.
  
• Turning to fire at the other group, the Youths are slightly confused at suspected enemy numbers, as they seem to be taking heavy fire. However, by your fifth shot, you began to develop flash burns, and will only see black and white for the duration of your next post (burnt your retina).
  
• Shocked by the charge, the boys were not really able to return fire easily. They fired off just a few rounds, but one struck the charger on the east, in the foot. He stumbled slightly, putting him a few seconds behind the other one.
  
• Slashing wildly, the first British soldier caught the west most Youth across the arm, knocking him back. However, this gave the central Youth the opening he needed to stab the Briton in the stomach. The man crumbled backwards, but did not fall over. He’s feeling faint and is dazed as he slowly bleeds. This is a major wound which needs medical treatment.
  
• The youth struck is now whimpering, his right shoulder a mess. He is in no fit state to fight. He bleeding quite badly and the wound is painful, but will not kill him.
  
• The second British soldier came in a moment later, but registered that they were children, and that on was injured. That brief pause cost him his life. The eastern boy’s Imperial bayonet struck upwards, and stabbed straight in the British sternum, slitting the throat.
  

I would recommend you retreat now. The boys were prepared for your charge, and their better melee skill and numbers have halted the attack. You can still run and escape, and they will not follow you. However, the retreat will have to come after the boys counter attack.

- Strum

[Aksel Bavenn]

"Es schmerzt. Es schmerzt so sehr ..."

Markus brought his bayonet to his shoulder, trying and failing to fight off the blind anger that gripped his entire body. Adelbert lay pathetically on the cold, mossy floor of the undergrowth, his body racking with sobs, clutching at the wound he had sustained. To the sixteen year-old boy, the sight of the fourteen year-old lying crumpled on the floor was horrific. The enemy would pay. He promised himself that. Without hesitating, he plunged his weapon into the surviving Briton's stomach, before withdrawing the Imperial Bayonet sharply with a sickening ripping sound.

"Machen Sie sich keine Sorgen, Edmann," he said shortly, glancing over at Adelbert. "Sie werden gut. Es ist die britische Dreck Ich bin besorgt über,"

The boy gave a wan smile as Krause took the initiative and sent a shot through the air with the primary intention of wounding - or at least, routing - the remaining enemy in the near distance. Markus turned to his companion.

"Offenes Feuer auf den Feind," he said grimly. "Holen Sie sich die feige zu fliehen, wie die Angst Ziege er ist,"..

Krause nodded. Two rifles were brought to two shoulders, two hands gripped at the weapon's scabbed body and two fingers pulled two triggers.

***

Aksel and Wolf watched the action with hawk-like eyes and baited breath. Seconds after the initial - and semi-suicidal - charge of the enemy, screams filled the air magnaminously. British screams it transpired. But who knew how their companions were faring? After all, dead men didn't scream.

The fourteen year-old signalled for Wolf to follow him out of their flock of cover to the more substantial attacking position to the East. A second later, the two boys sprinted the small distance over to the trees, keeping their heads down, the ample fire issued from their companions to the West more than enough to distract any unwanted attention from the enemy.

"Bleiben Sie hier und geben Sie mir Bedeckungfeuer," Aksel instructed, keeping his eyes on the figure amongst the trees. "Ich bilde meine Weise zum Gebäude, ihn weg von dort auszuwählen. Verstehen Sie?,"

Wolf nodded and, to confirm this point, he sent a bullet slicing through the air, aimed immediately at the Briton's jugular. Aksel smiled, took a careful shot of his own, and began to make his way out of cover. He turned back and smiled. "Oswald," he said. "Wenn ich Schuß erhalte, I' ll ist zurück zu erhalten Sie,"

Aksel disappeared from Wolf's eyes. The boy smiled and sent a further three shots blindly towards the enemy in a bid to pin him down so that his companion could do what he needed to do to guarantee the boys' survival. Reloading hastily, he thought about Aksel's words. Wenn ich Schuß erhalte, I' ll ist zurück zu erhalten Sie. Wolf smiled to himself. He didn't doubt it for a second.

***

Aksel made his way through the no-man's land of the coverless ground, the shield of his companions' covering fire hopefully keeping him safe from the enemy he knew were nearby. Rolling the last few steps into the building, he immediately crouched down by the doorway. Bringing his rifle to his shoulder, he could see the enemy as clearly as if he was right next to him.

The boy knew he was an accomplished marksman and the fact that the man's life was directly in his hands was an eerie feeling. Nevertheless, he didn't hesitate. He closed one eye as he always did when the situation required for a particularly accurate shot. With the rifle almost perfectly in line with the man's lower-stomach, Aksel took a deep breath and squeezed the trigger.

Actions

Finishing Positions

Translations

Es schmerzt. Es schmerzt so sehr...
- It hurts. It hurts so much...

Machen Sie sich keine Sorgen, Edmann. Sie werden gut. Es ist die britische Dreck Ich bin besorgt über.
- Do not worry Edmann. You will be fine. It is the British filth I'm worried about.

Offenes Feuer auf den Feind. Holen Sie sich die feige zu fliehen, wie die Angst Ziege er ist.
- Open fire on the enemy. Make the coward to flee like the goat he is.

Bleiben Sie hier und geben Sie mir Bedeckungfeuer. Ich bilde meine Weise zum Gebäude, ihn weg von dort auszuwählen. Verstehen Sie?
- Stay here and give me covering fire. I'll make my way to the building and pick him off from there. Understand?

Wenn ich Schuß erhalte, I' ll ist zurück zu erhalten Sie.
- If I get shot, I'll be back to get you...

[∬: Erhard Strumfelder]

Moderation Post

Wow, quite a few bullets. I’ve been a little kind here, because I can’t mod yet another POW.

Hitlerjunge Bavenn

• The first few shots forced the Sergeant down into the dirt, as earth kicked up around him, scarring him slightly. The moving and firing to the side however has made him believe there are more German’s arriving as reinforcements.
  
• Wolf’s first shot hit home, and struck Sergeant Sowerby in the right side of the ribcage, breaking one rip and cracking another. This is major wound, but won’t be the thing to kill you…
  
• Bavenn’s last shot was well aimed, and struck the Allied Soldier in the stomach, tearing through several organs, and causing a haemorrhage. Blood is pouring out. This will kill you by the post after your next, should you remain in the battle that long.
  

I suggest you retreat Jack, as fast as you can. However, the wound in your lower chest is very bad, and handling it wrong may cause your retreat to fail terribly. Your only other option is to surrender, and as long as Bavenn’s next post ends the battle, you have a very good chance of survival. Just be careful which choice you make.

- Strum

[Aksel Bavenn]

Can I request that this thread be closed if Jack doesn't post by Monday?

[jackomac]

OCC: Sorry about the late reply, trouble with my IE. I havnt provided a map becuase there wasnt really much movment on it from me. The shot were fired toward the western group of men/ boys.

The pain that had erupted in his stomach was unbearable; it felt like someone had just taken a sledgehammer to his abdomen. He fell back, his hand moving instinctively toward the hole in his front, he could fell his heart move into over time and start to pump against his ribcage surprisingly hard. Warm blood started running from his stomach and onto his cloths and skin; it felt even warmer in the freezing night air. He could feel tears start to fall from his eyes; he had to grip himself mentally. “Come on” he said to his self out load, pulling off one of his shoes he flung it to the side and started pulling of his sock.

He needed to buy himself some time, to make it look as if he was still mobile he lifted his loaded gun with one hand and rested against a notch on a tree, firing to two shot toward were his privates had charged, and by the looks of it meet there doom. He was focusing so much on the pain in his stomach and firing his gun he hadn’t even realised he was only seeing in black and white until he looked down at his red sock, which was now in his hand, and noticed he could see colour; he jammed the thought of possible permanent half blindness to the back of his mind and tried to concentrate on staying alive.

He just had to be thankful he had decided to wear rugby socks tonight because of the bitter coldness. Wrapping the sock around himself he winced from the pain of tightening it to cover the whole in his stomach. It did not completely and would soak very quickly but he didn’t care, he cared a lot more about escaping. He pulled himself up against his tree and pulled the trigger of his gun two more times, aimed again toward the area his men had charged before turned, preparing himself for the pain and sprinting 10 meters; weaving the whole time, moving away from the deadly German teens and away into the forest, into the cold night.

[∬: Erhard Strumfelder]

Moderation Post

Sorry for the problems earlier guys. Brenflake kindly pointed out my mistake. You know, if I do miss something like that, just PM me. I wouldn't call that challenging the mark.

Sergeant Sowerby

• Firing off two shots at the beginning, they have done little, your multiple wounds causing no end of problems. The two muzzle flash have however highlighted your position to the German boys.
  
• The rugby sock worked as a good fix, but it also limited blood flow. You feel slightly faint, but unfortunately, it hasn't cured all you wounds...
  
• The flash burns you received a few moments before mean you are only seeing black and white, so standing up was incredibly difficult...
  
• The two next shots also went wide, as you ribcage began to tear the flesh around it to pieces.
  
• Sprinting did not help your multiple wounds... The rugby sock fell out, but before that, you broken rib stabbed into your right lung, removing all your breath in one great stab of pain. You collapsed, have only moved a few metres.
  

*UNSUCCESSFUL RETREAT*

You really needed to handle your wounds very carefully, and sprinting with what you have got is suicide. The battlefield edge may just be a few metres away, but you're half blind, at night, haemorrhaging blood, with a wounded shoulder, and one broken rib with another cracked. That little action I'm afraid will kill you, if Aksel does not perform any medical aid to you. So your life is in a teenage boy's hands...

[Aksel Bavenn]

OOC: No map supplied as I couldn't be bothered to make one there aren't any offensive actions and...stuff.

Aksel lowered his weapon, trembling slightly. Was the man dead? He swallowed hoarsely. Had he...killed someone? The boy ran a hand through his toussled hair, darker than the night sky, and made his way cautiously through the trees, signalling for his companions to follow.

"Was zur Hölle machst du?" hissed Markus, glancing behind his shoulder wildly in case of a second wave of attacks. Wolf followed absently, leaving Krause to look after the wavering Adalbert.

"Ich kann ihn nicht verlassen..." Aksel said faintly, kneeling down at the man's side. The Briton was splayed pathetically on the floor, wounded and dying. It could have been almost amusing. But it wasn't. It was...it was a life. And it looked like Aksel had ended it.

"Legen Sie die Bastard aus seinem Elend," spat Markus, wrinkling his nose as he did so - the smell of urine was distinctly in the air. It seemed that the man had wet himself.

Aksel ignored his friend but to be on the safe side, kicked the man's weapon away. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Wolf pick it up with interest. Aksel sighed and, ignoring the bitter cold of the godforsaken forrest, peeled off his tunic, glad that he at least had some vaguely warm clothing on beneath, and wound it tightly around the blood that blossomed from the man's chest.

"Nehmen Sie ihn zurück zum Haus," he said, after a few seconds thought. He knew that moving someone after an injury was almost always a bad move but he had no other choice. Not if he wanted the man to live. And for some reason, he did want this man to live. Who knew? Perhaps the officers would be pleased with him for supplying them with a captive?

"Wir werden tun, was können wir für ihn gibt..." he said, in a voice that did not really believe his own words. Wolf and Markus obeyed the younger boy's orders instantly, and the three boys carried the man back to the house shakily. Aksel knew that his companions were looking forward to hearing him scream under interrogation. As for Aksel himself...he was just praying that he wasn't a killer.

Translations

Was zur Hölle machst du?
- What the hell are you doing?

Ich kann ihn nicht verlassen
- I can't just leave him...

Legen Sie die Bastard aus seinem Elend
- Put the bastard out of his memory.

Nehmen Sie ihn zurück zum Haus
- Take him back to the house.

Wir werden tun, was können wir für ihn gibt...
- We shall do what we can for him there...