Medical Convoy Palaver!

[✚ Peter T. Brannigan]

OOC: Okay, few pointers.

• When editing image yourself, please SAVE AS “24. BITMAP” so the image doesn’t lose it’s definition and become blurry.
  
• There is no sign-up list, this is the old fashioned way. Enter the thread mutually, don’t be unreasonable and suddenly appear behind the enemy, spraying dozens of bullets. Your first post should always be introductory.
  
• Any Allied Members who want to be apart of the Medic convoy, just say you’re in the back… =P
  
• Lastly - Enjoy. =)
  

IC (Introduction & My Post)

The Medical Convoy jerked and jumped as it’s suspension ruggedly clunked against the hard grained surface of the dirt-road. The rusty axels grinding to the pressure and the gearbox churning loudly every time Medical Assistant James Bedford pushed his heavy hand against the cold gear-stick, straining to keep the convoy truck in gear to the uneven surface of the road. A soft grumble leaving his lips as he gripped at the large cumbersome steering wheel, turning it like a natural ‘bus driver’, the soft patchy stubble across his face revealing the rough side of the male, unshaven and tired, yet battled on like most men caught up within the conflict.

Peter on the other hand was slumped in the passenger seat, his helmet draped over his face and his cigarettes strewn across the small clumsy dashboard, a few of the cigarettes rolling back and forth to the racketing, tempting James Bedford to reach out for one, but their rations were dwindling and they had to make do with whatever they had, particularly cigarettes. Mumbling beneath his breath, Peter slightly uncomfortably twisted his body, his folded arms coiling up tighter against his chest, trying to preserve the warmth that was being stolen from the gaps and nooks within the convoy - causing a chilly draft as they sped along.

Quite solemnly, the Convoy Truck began to slow and an eerie silence engulfed the truck’s persona, no racketing, bouncing or clunking, just a quiet drizzle of silence, as the heavy tires cruised against the musk dirt surface. “Eh, Corporal…” James briskly said, his eyes staring off in front, his hands laid upon the steering wheel, awaiting some sort of answer from Peter, but was profoundly met with a husk throated breath; sure sign he was asleep! Glancing towards Peter slumped and awkwardly comfortably nestled into the corner of the passenger seat, James Bedford leaned over and thumped the helmet that was covering Peter’s face, causing him to suddenly sit up, his foot kicking against the dashboard within the motion, a shocked look upon his face - “Wha…! What is it!?” Peter stuttered out, his weary eyes looking around somewhat, whilst his fingers coiled around the helmet to hold against his chest.

Medical Assistant Bedford grinned to himself, before clearing his throat and pointing off towards the front, the road blocked a short distance away by what seemed to be a fallen tree? Peter’s eyes furrowed to the situation and his body began to shuffle backwards against the hard seat, getting comfortable again, his face clearly showing the distressed look of ‘What To Do Next?’ “Can’t you just go around?” questioned Peter with hope, as James Bedford replied with a shrug, leaning down against the steering wheel slightly, as if leaning downwards would give him better sight of the blocked road ahead. Watching James Bedford, Peter gave a hard sigh and shook his head, as if the man wasn’t any better use than just driving; now it seemed it looked like he wasn’t good at that.

Licking his lips quickly, Peter snagged a cigarette from off the dashboard and planted it upon his lips, whilst shuffling the other cigarettes into the frail case, avoiding the sympathetic stare of James Bedford who was tempted to ask for one. With a quick flint of a light, he lit the cancerous tobacco and inhaled deeply, before twisting in his seat to thump his hand up against the back panel behind them. “Alright back there!? We’ve got a little trouble, road’s blocked up ahead, I’m gonna’ go take a look” Peter shouted slightly, hoping his voice didn’t just sound like a muffle, his other young Medical Assistant in the back, who was probably asleep. Glancing towards James Bedford one last time, Peter nodded and hastily shoved open the heavy door, jumping down from the small height of the truck, not bothering to take his rifle…

Unarmed Peter took a few long steps away from the truck, deeply taking another inhale of his cigarette, before cuffing his hand up against his brow to look down range towards the tree cascaded across the path. It was obviously too heavy to move, but what could’ve caused it? Standing a little idle for a moment, he began to wonder to himself, but didn’t question beyond it. They were on friendly soil still, a Medical Convoy, concluding to the Geneva Convention[/I], they were eligible to travel without fault, but as Peter knew, the Nazis would kill them anyway. Regardless of the large printed red-cross signs painted upon their vehicle and helmets.

[Edward"Butcher"McMillan]

It had been a long and arduous journey in the back of that so called "Ambulance". McMillan was able to get some well needed shut eye, but it wasn't of any nice quality to say the least. He wasn't injured, just needed a somewhat quicker way to change locations, and due to the lack of transport vehicles in the area he figured this was his best bet. The dust that wriggled through the small holes and gashes in the side of this heap had formed a fresh powdery look on top of McMillan's slightly overgrown high and tight.

There was a banging coming from the cab of the vehicle, just enough to awake the slumbering soldier from a somewhat nice dream of an unknown beautiful woman. He opened his eyes just in time to notice that the stopping vehicle had slung him forward at an unwanted pace, he threw up his arms in front of him so as to avoid the possible concussion from the vehicle wall.

"Nice driving..." He murmured to himself. He had no clue what the man up front had tried to proclaim through the wall, but since they were stopping he figured he might as well stretch his legs while he could. He plopped his helmet onto the top of his skull, never even giving the time to snap his chin strap, grabbed up his carbine and jumped down out of the back of the machine.

"Must have been asleep longer than I thought, where's a good tree to help me out?" He turned to see a medic hop out of the front of the vehicle, he also noticed a downed tree in the road. "I'm gonna go find a tree, don't think that one is gonna cut it." He said to the co-pilot of the ambulance as he pointed up the road. "Be back in a moment."

[∬: Rafael Z. Wolfram]

OOC: I will be using a squad of soldiers, as I’m unsure to how many more Allied opponents there will be? If there’s too many, just say. Just want a big action RP and sorry if my post is a little dry, still tired.

Oh, just made my moves on the Map too. Sorry if my ‘blob’ icons are a little too big. Graveyard seems a little small, overlaps slightly. Should be readable enough, to see my moves.

IC

Hauptmann Wolfram’s pale long fingers twisted the tight fitting SS-Officer’s hat from off his skull, laying it upon the alter. His pearly blue eyes glimpsing over the decorative design of the frail and limp figure of Jesus hanging from the cross, whilst he ran a hand through his dirty blonde hair, admiring the figurine. The Church was immensely quiet and the hard stone walls provided much needed security to the men, their nights out within the woodlands had their nerves on edge and the chill factor pierced their skins around all hours of the day. So the morale was lifting and they duly deserved their rest.

Taking a long sigh to himself, the Hauptmann twisted upon his fine polished heels to glance around the doom ridden place, his long gothic looking winter coat hanging about his posture, the warmth exuberating against his skin, whilst Four of his men meanwhile were scattered around the premises of the church, all at ease. Hans and Burkhard were huddled together on a single bench, playing what seemed to be a homemade version of cards, made from tissue and cardboard, whilst Claus roamed aimlessly and Gerwulf stood by the entrance, slightly weary, but the men were in good spirits none the less.

Slowly and eerily, Hauptmann Wolfram walked along the cold cobbled flooring of the abandoned church, his hands reaching out to grasp a shiny tin cased box. Turning it within his grasp slightly, he gave it a well needed shake, causing a loud rattle within the room; Gerwulf’s body jumped from the noise, his weariness still on edge. Grinning to himself, Hauptmann Wolfram opened the case, tipping out it’s contents of pennies and coins within his palm, before chucking it back into the box, feeling the dormant stares of the statues and figurines looking at him, that was until a screeching noise and distant voices caught his ears, along with his men’s attention…

Gerwulf, who was standing by the door, froze in sheer anxiety as he watched what seemed to be a convoy truck racketing to a stop through the trees, his head snapping back to look at the Hauptmann and comrades within, who all shared a silent stare towards one another. “Feindlicher Lastwagen” gasped out Gerwulf, his body moving into the church, delivering the bad news to the other’s who suddenly sprung into action! Hans and Burkhard’s shoddy game of cards abruptly stopping, as they piled all the game fragments together, shoving them inside their pockets, before inevitably reaching for their rifles and shifting over towards the entrance, whilst Claus quickly moved to a nearby window, kicking his foot upon a piece of furniture to lever his way up.

The Hauptmann sharply followed the men to the doorway and clutched his MP40 by his side, staring out of the opening with a keen eye. “Es gibt Nur Ein... Gerwulf, Hans, bewegen Sie auf für ein besseres Aussehen” ordered Hauptmann Wolfram quickly, acting on instinct, the two men uttering out a quick and small “Herr Hauptmann”, before their bodies scuffled out of the door in a low posture, taking up points in the small cemetery. Turning his head towards Burkhard who shuffled closer to him, he gave a small whistle towards Claus looking out of the window, waving his hand for the man to come over; looking back out of the door again, he awaited to see what the men relayed back to him on the situation…


Translations:[/b]

Feindlicher Lastwagen
- Enemy Truck

Es gibt Nur Ein... Gerwulf, Hans, bewegen Sie auf für ein besseres Aussehen.
- There's only one... Gerwulf, Hans, move up for a better look.

Herr Hauptmann
- Sir Captain

[bigmac]

William was in the back holding his rifle in the back of the truck sitting on the right hand side, he heard what McMillan had said, "Be careful, we're in our territory, but they could have taken it back." He rubbed his face, he was tired, but he couldn't sleep, he had been picked up on the side of the road awhile ago, he had heard a door slam probably some road blockage, he called up, is everything O.K. up there?"

[✚ Peter T. Brannigan]

Brushing his hand up against his jaw line, Peter’s eyes narrowed somewhat to look down towards the huge hunk of a tree blockading their primary path. A noise emitting from the truck half interestingly caught Peter’s attention briefly, as his head skewered back and forth between the fallen tree and someone lumbering out from the back of the vehicle that stood stagnantly still. It seemed as if the First-Sergeant was gathering itchy legs, as he hobbled down the side of the Medical Truck to ponder what was happening, before briskly insinuating the need for watering plants; The Medic grinned and nodded slightly, as he cuffed the helmet from off his head to grasp weakly within one hand, watching the First-Sergeant wander off, calling back to him “Make sure you double check the tree you take a leak up - could be a Jerry” he said jokingly, half heartedly laughing to himself a the thought of McMillan taking a leak up a camouflaged soldier.

Taking a long breath, Peter brought the cigarette to his lips again and took another drag, before thumping his helmet back onto his thick skull. The worn chin-straps clunked against his jaw and neck as he walked slowly, almost wearily of the situation up ahead, knowing all too well the Nazis could’ve done that themselves to either slow down Allied transports or ambush them? Once again, he pushed the negative thoughts aside and continued walking quietly down the road, observing the tree the whole while, wondering if it was possible to move it with the use of a rope and some good needed horse-power… Didn’t look it.

As Peter drew to a stop, his feet slumbered through the dry dirt and his body twisted to look off towards the woodlands, noticing a building a short distance through the foliage - it looked slightly grand, almost like a castle to begin with? Then a movement ever so slightly caught his eye. It wasn’t anything big, but the slightest movement now had the Medical Corp. eerily standing stiff, the hairs upon the back of his neck bristling on end. Nervously, Peter drew the cigarette to his lips again and took a long look towards the truck, wondering if the Driver; James Bedford was watching him. Subtly, he raised his hand a little behind his back and gestured towards the woodlands in front of him, as if he’d seen something. Wasting no time, Peter calmly, yet eagerly turned his body, making his way back towards the truck.

Nearing the Truck, James Bedford leaned out of the window and phased a curious look towards Peter, as if to confirm what the Medical Corp. had just subtly suggested with a hand motion, that someone could be nearby - perhaps a Jerry or two. Nodding towards James Bedford in a gesture of ‘Yes’ he continued to walk down the side of the truck, hopefully away from the sight of Jerry; opening the passenger door to the truck, he didn’t get in, but quietly spoke to James who went to turn and face him “No, keep your hands on steering wheel and don’t look at me. I just saw something in the woodlands, there’s some sort of building out there too… Now, it’s either one of two things --” but Peter didn’t bother offering what they could be, as he abruptly cut it short and looking behind him, as if he heard something, probably just paranoia.

Suddenly, it dawned on Peter. They were carrying healthy combat troops. If they were stopped by a Nazi patrol, by law, they’d most likely be able to confiscate and take them prisoner, let alone deal with the Medics themselves. This was if the Nazis were ball players and followed rules, which most didn’t. Shaking his head a little to himself, he stood straight and looked off for the First-Sergeant, knowing he’d most likely have a plan… Right?

[bigmac]

OOC-Ignore what i said about me holding my rifle i forgot i dont have one.
IC-As Will was sitting there he bagan to start feeling nervous, he had to rely on other people not to get him killed...he wasn't used to that, it had been just him since June 6th, he called to the 1st Sergeant, "I'm gonna need help movin' 'round if we get in trouble, I got no gun."

[Edward"Butcher"McMillan]

McMillan was still basking in the fact that a pit stop can change ones mood real quick and in a hurry, which was oddly enough just how he was moving towards the nearby trees that still had the strength to stand proud. He made it a point not to move out of a earshot though.

He laughed in the back of his noggin about possibly pissing on a kraut, but a solemn frown pranced it's way onto his face when he realized that in war, that would have to be one of the most embarrassing ways to kick the bucket. "Pissing on a kraut only to sling your rifle and reach for your pants, but instead end up gutted like a fish." The thought almost made him quiver, but that was just probably the slight breeze that caught the needed hole in his pants.

Their was no krauts nearby to urinate on but with he build up in his head he would have settled for a dead one to relieve himself on. Although it was meant in good fun, the medic's comment had him standing there feeling uneasy and extremely vulnerable. He finished up with a gentle but deliberate shake and put away his gear. He pulled his carbine from it's perch on his shoulder and held it in his weak hand along his side. It never failed, whenever he had the moment to spare he would stop and stare at the sky, he mainly liked looking at the moon, he knew it was the only thing that anyone else back home could see on the same day and not hurt themselves to gaze upon it.

[bigmac]

OOC-I have a rifle now, the map wont come up so I wont have a map.
IC-Will was sitting there clutching his rifle, "Oh, Hell, now I gotta piss," Will left the back of the truck and rushed to a tree. 'Man I hope I don't get ambushed,' he looked around cautiosly.

[∬: Rafael Z. Wolfram]

OOC: I’m abiding by the Geneva Convention, plus, it’s nice to get up close and personal once in a while…

As the SS-Hauptsturmführer peered out from behind the church wall, he watched his two subordinates scuffle through the narrow graveyard; heck, even he could see they were being a little loud, hopefully the enemy didn’t notice, but their quite low stance suggested they must’ve been closer than he anticipated himself? Gerwulf gave a anxious look and balanced his rifle onto one of the gravestones, whilst Hans shuffled down beside him, looking over the gravestone in a means to get a better look… Slumping back down again, SS-Schütze Hans turned his body to look back towards Wolfram’s direction and began to make silent hand gestures, holding up one digit and then strafing his hand off, silently trying to say ‘On enemy moving away’, but what Wolfram didn’t expect was Hans to make a cross sign with his palm and pull a nervous look… Medics?

Biting his lower lip, SS-Hauptsturmführer Wolfram quietly looked between the two men besides him, phasing thoughts on what to do? For all he knew, they could be carrying combat troops or even worse, be some sort of fake disguise to infiltrate the lines? None the less, he was a respectable Officer and killing the wounded, or un-armed for that matter was a war crime and disrespectful thing to do. He’d certainly lose brownie-points amongst the men. Twisting upon his heels, he looked to Claus and Burkhard, having a plan. “Recht, ich wollen Sie zwei, auf durch die Bäume zu bewegen, hat Aufenthalt versteckt und schweigsam, Sie werden unser einziges Mittel der Decke sein, wenn dies Paar hat gestaltet geht... Bewegen Sie jetzt!”, the men nodded and quickly brushed passed Wolfram to quietly move through the foliage, knowing they’d have to find a suitable spot where they could see their comrades and the enemy.

Watching the two men move off, Rafael Wolfram quickly done the same, as he briskly walked out into the graveyard and cuffed his hand in a gesture for Hans and Gerwulf to follow him, whilst he quickly said “Gehen wir Rede zu diesen Doktoren, wenn Sie ein Stück der Waffen auf irgendeinem von ihnen sehen, schießt sie achtlos! Hat das erhalten?” the two men gave a nod alike the other two who’d already moved out into the woodlands, before hastily following their SS-Hauptsturmführer who walked quite boldly onto the dirt road, his MP40 aiming at the nearby truck from his waist and his two subordinates either side of him, staying a little lower and they pointed their rifles, one of them aiming off towards the driver behind the window-screen and another tail-gating someone on the passenger side, just about seeing half his body.

“Z-ou are surrounded! Do not make any drastic moves and no-vody will get hurt!” hollered out the SS-Hauptsturmführer, before pointing towards Peter with a quick hand, his body shuffling into the road some more, getting better aim with his weapon. “Z-ou! Medic! Come here, show me Z-ome paper V-ork and get Z-our driver to open the back of Z-ee truck” continued the SS-Hauptsturmführer within his rugged and rough-toned German Accent, his eyes gleaming and his grin deviously wide. One of his men loading their rifle in a provoking motion, as if to try and help get the situation moving faster.


Translations:[/b]

Recht, ich wollen Sie zwei, auf durch die Bäume zu bewegen, hat Aufenthalt versteckt und schweigsam, Sie werden unser einziges Mittel der Decke sein, wenn dies Paar hat gestaltet geht... Bewegen Sie jetzt!
~ Right, i want you two to move up through the trees, stay hidden and silent, you'll be our only means of cover if this goes pair shaped... Now move!

Gehen wir Rede zu diesen Doktoren, wenn Sie ein Stück der Waffen auf irgendeinem von ihnen sehen, schießt sie achtlos! Hat das erhalten?
~ Let's go talk to these doctors, if you see a piece of weaponry on any of them, shoot them regardless! Got that?

[Edward"Butcher"McMillan]

McMillan barely had time to finish up his so called sight seeing and turned toward the vehicle only to spot three German soldiers walking toward it themselves. One of them was an officer, that was clear a mile away, he carried himself as if he had found his calling and his uniform was almost in too nice of a condition to even be thought to have seen battle. None the less they had the upper hand and quite possibly the only thing that saved the medic and the rest of the "ride alongs" was the fact that there was a red cross on the side of the truck. Also the fact that this Officer was of high quality.

That's when it hit him, and it hit him hard. As soon as they find out that there are perfectly fine soldiers riding in the back they would be toast. Not to mention at least this German officer would quite possibly never extend the same courtesy to another medical convoy. He didn't want tot be the cause of his wounded comrades not getting a chance. Well if worst came to worst, he could act wounded, couple of broken ribs. But that was not the task at hand, for all he knew it was the Germans who were acting and had plans for their demise.

McMillan took up a good kneeling position almost on top of his own urine, he thought it best not to move, didn't know how many of them there really were. He placed his sights onto a pretty good line where the German Officer was standing so that if he had to fire and miss, he still had a good chance to hit the not so good looking kraut behind him. All he could do now was wait and hope that this would all blow over without an altercation, but McMillan knew he had the worst luck, well not as bad as that medic might have it at the moment.

OOC: I'm still in the same position, just lower to the ground. Didn't see a need to deteriorate the quality of the map any further if it isn't needed.

[✚ Peter T. Brannigan]

OOC: Oops, forgot the map. There we go!

Casually leaning against the passenger’s seat from outside of the truck, Peter furrowed his eyes and brow with the palms of his hands, unsure on what to do next. He was only a Medic, not a Combat NCO, none the less, he had wit and a straight mind of thinking; not to mention the steady hands that earned him such a job within the Red-Cross, nerves. Raising his head slowly from the groove of his hands, James Bedford seemed to inhale sharply and his body froze, almost like he were in shock and awe, before thankfully he done something useful and hastily tapped Peter on the shoulder from across his seat and mutter out quietly “Huns…!”, but the news was a little late as suddenly a commotion of shuffling feet and broken German voice emitted into the dormant air on being surrounded.

Slowly, Peter’s body began to draw back from the door, his eyes glaring at James Bedford who’s hands began to quiver beneath the steering wheel, as if he was quietly going to reach for his rifle resting beside his chair, just below window level. Peter shook his head abruptly, glancing to his own resting in the same place, between the two chairs and against the manual gear-stick. It was too dangerous to tempt’ such actions. Perhaps they could get away with this - unarmed. The Red-Cross did indeed abide by the rules of travelling un-armed and more so, abided by the nut clenching rule of being Neutral, a non threat in the slightest.

As Peter pushed the door closed slowly, just so he could see the Nipped and Tucked SS-Officer standing in the middle of the road, he gulped hard. The man had a Submachine gun pointed at him and his subordinates had their rifles trained towards the truck, one presumably pointing at James behind the wheel. “O-Okay” muttered out Peter, as the man demanded his driver open the back of the truck and Peter show some paperwork to the Officer; half turning back towards the truck, Peter glanced towards James and nodded with a quick “Do as they say, open the back”, all Peter could pray, was that they didn’t check the front of the convoy where their rifles laid stiffly planted between the chairs.

The driver’s door opened slowly with a clunk of the locking mechanism, before a pair of feet emerged and James jumped down, his hands holding up quickly as he nervously pushed the driver’s door closed, so no one could see in. Gradually, he slowly turned, worried to make any quick movements and began to walk towards the back of the truck, hoping Robert Tompkins (other Medical Assistant) was awake and hearing the commotion unravelling outside.

Quietly and slowly, Peter held his hands up a little and approached the SS-Officer standing there, Peter’s breathing labouring a little as he drew closer, trying to keep his nerve. “W-We’re travelling to a medical centre in Rouen…” Peter said firmly, trying to avoid the stare of the SS-Man and the end of his barrel, his hand ever so slowly going inside his karki uniform, hoping the man didn’t see him as a threat to pulling out a pistol, as he gradually revealed some folded pieces of paper. “This document is signed by a Doctor Witsfield for our… Our transfer there” continued Peter, who held the paperwork out quietly, the noise to the back of the truck opening at the same time, as James done what he was told.

[∬: Rafael Z. Wolfram]

OOC: Bit tired. Not my best post.

Unlike some, SS-Hauptsturmführer wasn’t motioned to the careless shooting of imbecile Allied Soldiers, he knew the consequences of allowing such ‘prisoners’ and ‘medical convoys’ go free would entail, but manipulating them was a whole different matter. They were low on rations and tired. Perhaps the convoy could be stripped of it’s paintwork and put to proper use? Not to mention using the Medical Personal’s expertise to amend their own battered bruises. What was the sheer point in recklessly killing something that could be put to good use? So far, they seemed compliant and small numbered, easy to control.

As Peter told the driver to go open the back of the truck, Hans, who was beside him a few foot away, pointed his rifle towards the driver quickly and stood straight, drawing closer to the Driver as he nervously made his way towards the back of the truck. Thankfully, Wolfram’s men knew what they was doing, so he didn’t even need to utter a word as Hans accompanied the Driver down back, his rifle trained the whole while.

Soon enough, what seemed to be a higher ranking field medic approached SS-Hauptsturmführer slowly. Holding his MP40 tightly, he watched the man curiously, stuttering out a weak tone of voice that the truck was on it’s way to another medical centre. HA! thought Wolfram, who grinned deviously to watch what seemed to be folded pieces of signed documents being handed to him. Gently grasping them and stepping back, he nudged Gerwulf who stayed close to him, gesturing for the soldier to watch the Man whilst he read them over. Quietly, SS-Hauptsturmführer Wolfram quickly made a gist read of the document, only to be interrupted by Hans shouting at someone; Hans had found the other Medic in the back of the vehicle and was barking at him in German to get out! Rafael phased a quick look between the Medic in front of him and off towards where Hans was, grinning slightly.

OOC: Don’t take this next action as God-Moding please, but if it is, feel free to void it.

As Hans continued to shout, he angrily became impatient and reached up into the truck, yanking out the other Medic, causing the male to cascade to the ground. Quickly, he pointed his rifle towards the two Medics and twisted his head a little to shout back towards Rafael Wolfram “Wir haben einen anderen Mediziner zurück hier! Sonst nichts!”[/i], before giving his full attention back to the two men. Hearing Hans, Rafael folded the paper up again, before slowly moving back a little more and crushing the document within his hand to drop to the ground carelessly, twisting the sole of his boot into the document, pointing his MP40 at the Medic to shout aggressively “Z-Our Convoy has now been Confiscated! Now Move to the back with Z-ee Others! MOVE!” shouted SS-Hauptsturmführer Wolfram, his face turning a slight pink as he aggressively marched forwards, giving a small shove with his hand to get Peter moving.

After confirmation of no other healthy or wounded troops in the back of the truck, it would be simple and easy to use the three Medics to their liking. Perhaps have them scrape the paintwork from off the convoy first? Heh, either way, it seemed as if SS-Hauptsturmführer Wolfram wasn’t going to let them go, as he called out to the other’s in the brush “Burkhard, Claus, steigt hier aus!” not exactly knowing SS-Rottenführer Von Namur had acquainted them.



Translations:[/b]

Wir haben einen anderen Mediziner zurück hier! Sonst nichts!
~ We have another Medic back here! Nothing else!

Burkhard, Claus, steigt hier aus!
- Burkhard, Claus, Get out here!

[Edward"Butcher"McMillan]

As McMillan continued to keep his sights trained on the officer as best he could he couldn't help but think that if anything hit the fan he might be the only one with a chance of survival. Then it got worse. The medic that had already been standing outside of the vehicle stepped right into his sights, he had no shot. That didn't matter for too long anyway because very shortly after, all three went to the far side of the rickety truck out of his view.

One of the SS soldiers had the other medic that was riding in the cab open up the back, then they pulled the last remaining man from the vehicle. Whatever the papers were that the ranking medic handed the SS officer it really didn't matter they were now pretty much non-existent, he had crushed them beneath his overly polished boots. The SS officer then spat out something, possibly to other men that were hidden since he raised his voice.

All McMillan could do was pray that the medics didn't rile up the SS soldiers until they presented McMillan with an option to try and save his fellow troops from the tight grasp of the SS. If for some odd reason all of the SS ended up in the back of the vehicle it would be easier but he just had to keep sharp for any good opening. But who knows they may just talk their way out of this one with no conflict at all, that would be best. Either way McMillan got belly down in the dirt and tried ever so slowly to place some foliage on top of himself as to not be seen as easily. Didn't want to be the reason that none of them make it out of this ordeal.

[Daniel Brennan]

I have deleted Friedrich's posts from the thread, since he has now been banned and he didn't to be doing much good to the thread.
As for mod-marking, hmm; I don't think its needed at the moment. Nothing has happened except a bit of shoving...
Well have fun!

[✚ Peter T. Brannigan]

Scrunch, Scrunch, Thump! were the only coherent words Peter heard as he watched the SS Officer twist and screw the legit document within his hand, before thumping his high heeled boot onto it. The Medic’s mouth fell in awe and slowly his head raised to look at the piercing cold hearted man yell towards him. Peter’s head ducked a little from the velocity of his voice and soon found his hands grabbing at his uniform top tightly, almost like it were an instinctive comfort, frozen within his spot for a brief moment of being semi-huddled into his uniform, before the man shoved him eagerly towards the convoy truck, sending the Medic Staggering sideways…

James and Robert shrilled themselves as more bodies suddenly emerged from the woodlands and Peter once again felt his jaw drop in awe. It was an ambush. Were there any more than the two heads appearing from the woodlands!? Peter doubted it, but who knows, more so, thoughts began to spiral through his mind and the Medical Officer felt his chest thump to the adrenaline coursing through his veins. He had to do something and almighty fast! It was obvious they were dead meat. Why would this SS-Officer let them go!? From the stories he heard of the SS-Men being barbaric began to ring true, they’d have them working labour off some sort, before stripping their bodies to the flesh and killing them in cold blood and for once, Peter felt an overwhelming urge to do something.

Looking ahead, down the side of the truck, Peter took one last stare towards the mingling bodies towards the end, the bodies of his comrades and Medical Assistants lingering nervously to the narrow stare of the SS-Footmen approaching them. The Medical Officer had to do something, before they were rounded up like sheep and thrown to the wolves, knowing the breaths he were taking, could possibly be his last, the Medical Officer suddenly grunted and turned towards the truck’s door - after a few steps forwards of pretending to comply to the SS-Officer’s demand. Yanking the door handle back, opening the truck’s locking mechanism, he threw the heavy door open quickly, almost hoping he’d knock the SS-Officer off his feet or at least use the door as some sort of protection to any irrational firing within his general direction.

Quickly and hastily, Peter shouted “RUN!” and clambered up into the truck’s driver seat, diving head first into the manual gear-sticks, knowing it would’ve been risky to reach back and close the door behind him or even try to start the engine again! So quickly, fumbling his legs over the gears, Peter grabbed his rifle - not quite managing to get a grip on James Bedford’s rifle, before falling into the passenger seat and accidentally falling out of the passenger door that wasn’t locked properly. Hitting the ground with his rifle and knees, Peter gasped for breath and ran like a mad-man towards the nearest tree, his helmet rattling against his skull like a loose bolt and his two medical assistants doing the same. Their bodies had turned upon the word ‘GO’ and darted towards the opposite direction, James Bedford slipping and staggering around the truck, whilst Robert cried out worriedly, shooting off into the opposite direction, not knowing where to go!

OOC: I gave it my best shot… =) Phew…