Closing the Breach

[Edward"Butcher"McMillan]

"Get a bandage on that man's leg Medic!" McMillan shouted out as he quickly made his way through the narrow corridor of the mostly bombed out building. The location had been hit for three hours by Allied Indirect Fire Support before the actual maneuver even started. Most of the Axis stationary guns had been destroyed and the armored column was still a good twenty minutes away, that was an eternity in combat. The personnel losses weren't too significant yet as their fortifications withstood the bombardment for the most part.

There were five hours of daylight left when the call came through the radio. "We're cut off!! The left flank folded too quickly and we are on the wrong side of the enemy to make it back over!!" the radio almost seemed as if it shuddered when all the eyes in the room began to stare at it, Edward hadn't been in the room for thirty seconds and he was already gritting his teeth.

"I read you, try to take up a defensive position we will send support as soon as we can! If you have to move try to head this direction over!" was the reply that was sent. It was more or less pointless, the left flank was the most under equipped of the five sections in the area, mainly due to the fact that the push was going to be made form the right. The position Edward was located did happen to be the best fortified location, partly the reason they weren't expecting a hit on this side of the lines.

McMillan took a deep breath, "Gather your gear soldiers! I'll report this one personally to Schneider, get ready to move if the order is given!" and with that he turned and stormed out the oversized door and set off into a hearty jog toward the central bunker. He passed many men on his way, almost all of them clung to the left wall as they saw him coming as per normal procedure, the odd one or two caught off guard ended up in a small collision but no one was knocked off their feet, although the look they received wasn't very welcoming.

With a loud thud Edward slammed into the exit door and cleared the twenty yards of open ground in a flash before he tucked into the halfway buried central bunker where the higher ups continued to plan the actions of the evening. "Sir, Sturmscharführer McMillan, please pardon the interruption but I have important news!" he spat as he took a few deep breaths and waited to be acknowledged.

[∬: Erik Schneider]

OOC: PRP time. ;D

Obersturmfuhrer Schneider felt his hand slowly tighten into a fist as it gently brushed against the map spread upon the table. Slowly, the man's calmness developed into an overwhelming sense of rage and he brought the fist up with fury before slamming it back down on the table. "What are you telling me? We have no support out here? No armor? No artillery?" Schneider roared at an underling, a junior officer, that was standing in the central bunker. The rage was growing in the Obersturmfuhrer as he felt his wounded fist open and close several times to release his anger.

The frightful man gulped slightly, unsure of what to tell his commanding officer. The Totenkopf hadn't been given much of a chance after the initial bombardment and were now confined to their heavily fortified position, suffering heavily from artillery fire. They had little support though now, left to fend for themselves. "Ja, Herr Obersturmfuhrer. The armor column is another twenty minutes off. We have no artillery. We do not have any reason to believe we can hold off for twenty minutes." The Obersturmfuhrer breath deeply and turned away from the table. The officers gathered around the table watched as he exhaled, a sense of fear in their eyes.

"I suggest a retreat, Herr Obersturmfuhrer. The best course of action right now." There were a dead silence in the bunker for several moments as Schneider turned towards the man, his rage now gone having sapped the Obersturmfuhrer's energy only seconds before. Calmly, Schneider placed his finger on the map where they were positioned. "No. We will stay here. And we will fight. And if we must, we will die. There will be no retreat." Nervously, the officers gathered in the bunker shot each other dreadful glances.

Suddenly, a new figure emerged in the bunker much to Schneider's surprise. He glanced at the man and immediately recognized him as Sturmscharfuhrer McMillan, raising the question of what the hell McMillan was doing. "Sir, Sturmscharführer McMillan, please pardon the interruption but I have important news!" Schneider sighed and looked the man over once more, before placing his hand back down upon the table. "Go on then, McMillan. What news do you bring?"

[Edward"Butcher"McMillan]

McMillan swallowed hard and stepped forward. "If I may sir?" he asked and was replied by a nod from another Lieutenant in the room, he was new to the unit as far as Edward knew. "Sir, as far as we can tell the Allied forces have punched a hole through the left flank somewhere near here." he stated as he ran his finger perpendicular to the lines drawn on the large map. "Our soldiers were forced to pull away to the south effectively cutting themselves off from the main unit." He finished as he stood back up from leaning over the table and took a step backward, wiping a bead of sweat away from the skin that covered his temple. "I already ordered a group of men to gear up in case an order was given to move, I know we have mostly infantry for the time being, but I figured that they should be ready just in case to save what few moments we can." It was a bit forward of Edward but time wasn't exactly a luxury they had at the moment, as far as he knew it they needed to hold until the forces north of them made their hole in which the rest of the troops would pour through and widen it out.

"The men that have been separated are low on gear and quite possibly ammunition as well Sir. That's all I have" He added in. If any force in this over all maneuver was expendable it was indeed the far left flank, but recruits were running short in these times. Sending men to bring them back could help the unit retain its numbers...or it could doom yet another group of men to their deaths. This was one call that McMillan was relieved he didn't have to make.

[∬: Erik Schneider]

These were desperate times for the Obesturmfuhrer who was struggling to make up his mind as the Sturmscharfuhrer approached and placed his finger on the detailed map. Some fresh blood still littered the paper from where Schneider had cut up his fist in blind rage. McMillan explained how their left flank had been punched in and forced to retreat and were promptly cut off from the main unit. The question of sending men in aide of the cut off soldiers arose in Schneider's head, but was quickly dismissed as suicidal. As McMillan finished speaking, the bunker fell into silence again as many eyes fell upon Schneider's face.

"There will be no order to move. We can not risk any more lives for those soldiers." Schneider muttered silently, the room growing uncomfortable again as they listened to the grim orders. Sighed, Schneider continued by saying, "Inform those poor bastards to do everything in their power to link up with us here. We'll try to clear a way from them, if possible, but for now we are stuck on the defensive until we receive further orders." It was depressing for Schneider to make such a call, but the call had to be made. By attempting to aid the cut off unit, he would be putting his forces as risk two which just meant more unnecessary deaths.

As Schneider's mouth opened to speak again, an abrupt sound interrupted the conversation. The sound of an explosion rocking against the bunker and throwing Schneider back in confusion as concrete came tumbling down. Ears ringing, Schneider began to fall into darkness as he found rubble piling up on him.

[Edward"Butcher"McMillan]

Edward listened as his superior gave the orders, the orders that would keep them all here, there wouldn't be an attempt to save the flank. Edward mostly agreed with him. "Sir." he nodded decisively without showing any emotion and turned toward the door to make his way back to the men in the room, already quite possibly huddled around the radio to hear what was happening off in the distance. But McMillan never made it to the door, a very muffled whistle came ever so closer and his eyes widened a bit, but this was something they had become used to as the difficult day had trudged on and the pounding of incoming artillery became commonplace for the men deployed there.

BOOOOMM!!!

It hit and was about as dead on target as they could come, and this one was one of the few that hit a weak spot and punctured the multiple feet of steel reinforced concrete that covered their heads, or at least had been covering their heads. The main door disappeared in a moment but a new doorway had formed above it to the left where the round hade made an almost perfect hole. Everyone's vision blurred and their peripherals went out the window. Ears were ringing and small motor function of the body was lost as the adrenaline spiked. Dust and debris filled the stale air in what was remaining of the small room and Edward took to his feet and turned to see the damage. Two men were missing...well one and a half. There were a pair of legs bleeding out onto the map, the upper half seemed to be crushed under a huge chunk of junk, and there was no saving whoever it was. The second was Schneider, he was almost nowhere to be seen, and there was a spare boot on a far end table that had dust settling on it, seemed that it was once shiny enough to have belonged to the Obersturmführer.

"Sir, sir can you hear me!!" Edward shouted as the rest of the men in the bunker clambered to their feet, in turn joining in the screaming, most of which none of them themselves could even hear. Ed jumped onto the stone table and slid down the other side as he could make out a few fingers piercing through the large amounts of pebbles covering them. "Come on, COME ON!!! Be there BE THERE!!! You've been through worse DAMN IT! DON'T GO OUT LIKE THIS!!! YOU'RE NOT A PANSY!!!" he shouted as he ferociously dug through the pile of rubble and debris. Ed's hands began to bleed as he forced small piled of the mess off the sides, another pair of hands joined in and then another. One man even thought he found the Officer but when he pulled only a satchel was removed, who it belonged to was not of concern as it too was tossed to the side.

Within two minutes they had made a huge dent in the rubble, and a few seconds later "He's here!" roared through the room, echoing off the walls and the intensity that seemed it couldn't get any higher rose to two hundred percent as they persisted in getting the Commander out of the grave the Allies had wanted for him.

[∬: Erik Schneider]

"Angegangen, Gero! Geben Sie uns das verdammte Buch einfach! " A fourteen year old Erik Schneider growled, jamming his hand between his brother's arm who had doubled over to protect his book against his chest. The year was 1926. Dressed proudly in his Hitler Youth uniform, Erik was joined by three other boys who followed Erik as if he were their master. The Nazi boy had a natural charm that drew the neighborhood kids to him. His father spoke with pride of his eldest son and how he would be an officer one day. The seven year old middle child, Gero, was largely forgotten. Unless, there was some way to harm the poor bastard. Erik was growing annoyed as his brother squirmed under his grasp, not wishing to give up the book in his arms.

"Was versteckt er? " One of the boys cried out, joining in on the struggle by grabbing the child by the hips and trying to tear him off his book. "Ich wettete, dass es ein jüdisches Buch ist! Ihr Bruder ist ein schmutziger Jude, Erik! "Another boy joined in, as he kicked at Gero's feet while demeaning the child, who was younger by nearly eight years. "Schmutziger Jude! Schmutziger Jude! Gero ist ein schmutziger Jude" The third boy finally joined in, taunting Gero. Suddenly, the scene dissolved into the three Hitler Youth boys teasing and taunting Erik's younger brother by calling him a Jew and doing anything in their power to hurt the little boy. Gero nearly cried out, he was feeble and weak, but he quieted down once Erik smacked him across the head. Gero was often lectured by his older brother on appearing weak and the smack as a reminder to hush his crying. So, Gero's willpower persevered as he took the beating in silence.

The accusations of Gero being a Jew took their toll on Erik, whose anger overcame him. "RUHE! HALT DIE SCHNAUZE! " The fourteen year old barked at his friends, doing his best to keep his voice from cracking. Erik was breathing heavily now as the three boys stepped away from the seven year old obediently and spoke no further. Gero looked up at his older brother, a dark ring forming around his eye and some blood pouring from his under lip. Erik looked back at his younger brother disappointingly. "Ein letztes Mal, Gero. Geben Sie mir das Buch." The little boy looked first at Erik. Then over to the three bullies who waited off to the side, with their arms crossed. And then, he looked back up into his brother's eyes and defiantely muttered "Nein". Erik brought his fist down swiftly and caught Gero's face with it, knocking him aside. Soon, his three friends were fast on the scene pummeling the little boy alongside their leader.

"Gero! Gero! Ge-Ge-GERO!" A guilt-ridden Obersturmfuhrer yelled as he awakened. His eyes opened, but all we found was blackness. His cries had been drained out by a pile of rubble that buried him upon impact. Schneider could make out someone's voice on the other end, shouting at the buried Obersturmfuhrer that he could make it. The voice he recognized was that of Edward McMillan, who sounded awfully loyal for a man that the Obersturmfuhrer once despised. In a half- conscious state, Schneider dizzily set about to aiding his rescuers by removing some of the rubble before him. It wasn't long before someone noticed a finger peeking out from the rubble and cried out that they had found the Obersturmfuhrer.

There was large commotion as the living men in the room bloodied their fingers in a crazed fury as they pulled the rubble off from Schneider until a whole arm was through. A man on the outside world grabbed hold of the world and was startled but relieved when he felt the hand grasp on tightly. Schneider was heaved out from the pile of rubble and nearly collapsed to his knees after being lifted out, but he felt himself being lifted to his feet by the man surrounding him. Never before had he felt so loyal to a group of men around him, but he couldn't gather any words to say. He simply settled himself down against a still standing wall, attempting to regain his breath. Slightly dazed and confused, he was relieved to be alive. "Danke..." he muttered, lifting himself back to his feet after a few moment's rest.

The men in the room looked at their Obersturmfuhrer with needy eyes, expecting orders. They wanted action and the just couldn't stand to see the man take a moment's rest. Even after being thrown under the ruined bunker's rubble, Schneider was not to be allowed the rest. He sighed and looked around the room. "McMillan. Sie werden mein Läufer von im Augenblick sein. Legen Sie die Mitteilung zurück zu dem Radio neu, dass ich jene Männer ihre Weise in unsere Position sofort bilden wünsche. Und jene Männer, die Sie bestellten, um zu befördern? Lassen Sie sie versuchen, ihren Weg oben zurück zu lösen, aber als notwendiges nicht weiter voranzubringen. Verstehen Sie?" Schneider glanced at the men gathered in the room, hoping it pleased everyone. He would give some chance of rescue to the cut off unit, but he would not be risking many lives to reach them.

Translations:

- "Come on, Gero! Just give us the damned book!"

- "What is he hiding?"

- "I bet it is a Jewish book! Your brother is a dirty Jew, Erik!"

- "Dirty Jew! Dirty Jew! Gero's a dirty Jew"

- "SILENCE! SHUT UP!"

- "One last time, Gero. Give me the book."

- "McMillan. You are going to be my runner from right now. Relay the message back to the radio that I want those men to make their way immediately to our position. And those men you ordered to move? Have them attempt to loosen up their route back, but to not advance further than necessary. Understand?"

[Edward"Butcher"McMillan]

Edward looked on with surprise as the Officer was hoisted from amid the debris pile that littered most of the room. He seemed to be alright but a hit like that couldn't be shaken off that easily...could it? The answer would come soon enough as Schneider slid down a nearby concrete wall until he rested on the tattered floor. Taking deep breaths in a rapid manner all the man could muster was a 'thanks' with which brought a few tepid smirks to the men standing around in amazement. Ed slouched over and began slapping at his pants to remove the larger chunks of dust and blood that had combined to create and almost paste like substance over most of his uniform, slowly working his way up to his shoulders and then he ruffled his hair, small chunks of concrete sped of in multiple directions, a few other soldiers in the room seemed to follow suit, but McMillan's gaze was fixated on the Obersturmführer. Seemed the man could just keep taking these heavy blows and brush them aside as if they were child's play, he was indeed one of the rare men that lived up to the rumors.

Then a larger shock hit them all as the banged up Officer looked up at them and jumped right back into his duty. Edward just listened closely, it must have been difficult to speak and he wasn't going to ask the man to repeat himself. "Herr!" Ed shot out quickly as he snapped to attention, he was proud to be serving with such a fine officer. He hesitated only a moment to look upon Erik once more to see if there would be any signs of injuries or damage but none were to be found. With that the Sturmscharführer leaned away, keeping his eyes on the seemingly invulnerable soldier as long as he could before he turned to begin climbing out of the death trap of a bunker.

With little fault McMillan progressed up the steep pile into the clean air outside, taking a few deep breaths and coughing wildly for a moment, spitting the clusters of dust onto the ground, he poised himself and began walking toward the exit door he had only moments ago came bounding through. Before he entered he checked his weapons closely to make sure they were unharmed and still ready to rock, then he jerked the large handle on the iron door and headed back to the room he had first heard the reports from. The screams from the wounded had grown increasingly louder, almost to a very alarming state and as he rounded the next corner he knew why...

...Edward stopped dead in his tracks as the sunlight hit him in an almost intimidating way, his mouth gaping open. There was no more room, no more radio, no more group of men ready to head out if they were to receive the order, just a vast pile of brick, burning wood, pieces of bodies, smoke and a pair of large craters. The central bunker was the heaviest fortified position out there and they had penetrated that, a direct hit anywhere else would have been devastating, but two, it was simply unreal to Ed. He closed his mouth for a moment only to swallow in disbelief before he stumbled back a few steps and turned to head back down the hallway. He retraced his steps until he found himself outside once more, he was beginning to harbor anger for his enemy, but it would still be a while before it hit him full force. They had gotten lucky, there was nothing else to it.

McMillan slowly jogged across the same courtyard passing the central bunker, glancing toward it to notice that a couple others had emerged from the pit only to see the despair in Edward's eyes before he turned away and headed into the second building. So far everything seemed fine, it was pretty much the same lay out as the other only reversed, but he soon found out they still had a second wing of the building to station themselves in. He passed a few open doors peering in each before he found a soldier with a headset on and tapped him on the shoulder, waiting on a fraction of a second before motioning for him to get up all the while the Sturmscharführer was in the process of sitting down. He trailed his fingers over the knobs before he found what he was looking for and changed the frequency to that of the left flank's radio and waited to hear something, anything.

[∬: Erik Schneider]

The Sturmscharfuhrer snapped to attention as he listened to the Obersturmfuhrer's words closely. The Irish man was loyal and dedicated, though slightly untrustworthy. Schneider had grown to admire the man as a soldier, but the idea of betrayal had always eaten away at the back of Schneider's mind when McMillan was in his presence. Certainly not this time, however. Schneider had been too busy being hoisted from near death to doubt any of the men in the bunker's loyalty. The brutal fighting on the Russian front was enough to bond any German soldier to his brothers, even if he wasn't truly German. He felt McMillan's eyes hover over him for a few extra moments as if savoring the Obersturmfuhrer's presence. Edward McMillan had earned Sturmbannfuhrer Wolfram's respect and trust, that was enough for Schneider.

McMillan was a legend amongst the Totenkopf men, sometimes good sometimes bad. Some men would always be bitter towards the man, despite having different thoughts within their heads. Other men were fortunate enough to witness the brute in combat and never doubted the man again. As he vanished out the door once more, the chaos that the artillery round had wreaked nearly forgotten, Schneider stumbled towards the table. Miraculously, he had only sustained a few cuts and bruises from the bombardment, a tale that he expected to spread throughout the unit in the following days nonetheless. Schneider always seemed to find himself in dire situations. He had a reputation of getting out of them as well. The scars over his right lung were enough to prove it too.

Removing the bloodied pair of legs that had stained the map, Schneider attempted to clean most of the blood off from the table. The desperate looks of the men around him motivated him, as he bent over in silence and studied the map. Dozens of scenarios ran through his head and each and every one of them ended with death. Only one of them didn't, which could either be achieved out of sheer luck and skill or was just a fantasy to the Obersturmfuhrer. "Von Untersturmfuhrer Muller, haben Sie irgendwelche Informationen über, wo die Artillerie meistens abfeuert? " Schneider questioned his underling, who Schneider had befriended during the war. Muller nodded and placed his finger to the south, in the same area the cut off unit was. "Reports glauben einer Majorität, wenn nicht alles Artilleriefeuer vom Süden kommt, Herrn Obersturmfuhrer. "

Schneider nodded now with a wild look sparkling in his blue eyes. Then, a devious grin formed out of his lips as he pointed to their position on the map. "Wir sind tot, wenn wir hier bleiben. Jedoch wenn wir drücken und ausbrechen, können wir in der Lage sein, unsere Jungen zum Süden zu erreichen. Und wir können sogar in der Lage sein, die meisten der russischen Artillerie zu klopfen. Von dort kann der Rest der Maßeinheit in der Lage sein, außerdem auszubrechen." A few of the officers gathered around the table allowed their jaws to drop as they stared at the obviously suicidal Obersturmfuhrer. If they hadn't believed the tales of Schneider's battle in Africa, they believed it now and more importantly that he was mad. The room dissolved into chaos as the men objected to the order, drowning out any sanity in the room.

"Ruhe!" Schneider spat at the men, who quieted down. His gaze washed over all of them, a few sinking their head in shame or fear. Schneider's orders were final. "Es wird getan. Es ist gerade des Gottes genug verfluchtes verrücktes, dass es arbeiten konnte. Erfassen Sie so die Männer und bereiten Sie sie für die Gebühr vor. Es gibt keine Unbotmäßigkeit heute." As the men poured out of the room, Schneider grabbed Muller by the shoulder and pulled him aside. The Untersturmfuhrer opened his mouth to speak, but Schneider silenced him. "Finden Sie mich McMillan und wenn er seine Aufgabe beendet hat, holen Sie ihn mir. Ich muss ein Wort mit dem Sturmscharfuhrer haben. " Muller could only nod before he was forced out of the room and Schneider returned to the bloodied map, studying it intensely. How many men would die under his command today?

Translations:

- "Untersturmfuhrer Muller, do you have any information on where the artillery is mostly firing from?"

- "Reports believe a majority if not all of the artillery fire is coming from the south, Herr Obersturmfuhrer."

- "We are dead if we stay here. However, if we push and break out we may be able to reach our boys to the south. And we may even be able to knock most of the Russian artillery. From there, the rest of the unit may be able to break out as well."

- "Silence!"

- "It will be done. It is just god damn crazy enough that it might work. So gather the men and prepare them for the charge. There will be no insubordination today."

- "Find me McMillan and when he has finished his task, bring him to me. I need to have a word with the Sturmscharfuhrer."

[Edward"Butcher"McMillan]

"...Heavy Stütze. ..hel...ss...nee...to Flosse. ..barriers wird nicht ho. ..avy ungezwungen..." was all that Edward could make out coming through the other end of the headphones. Anger grew inside of him as he thought about how those men had been basically used as bait, they were the weakest of the formations, but calls had to be made and even thought they upset McMillan, he understood them whole heartedly and would never question his superiors. He slowly pulled the equipment from atop his skull and layed them on the work out desk as he stood but he didn't even make it out of the room before Muller came to a screeching halt in front of him after having barreled down the narrow hallway. While catching his breath he motioned for Edward to follow him, with a slightly perplexed look Edward nodded slowly before he stepped out into the hallway and the pair worked their way back out of the building. Once into the courtyard Muller pointed to the remnants of the Central Bunker, Ed just placed his hand on the man's shoulder as he stepped past him and turned his head over his shoulder to look him in the eyes. He nodded quickly before pointing to a stone and telling him to sit down and catch a breather before rejoining them.

Edward picked up a quick jog toward the semi bombed out building. Every so often the whooshing sound of an incoming artillery round would come sailing over head, didn't know where the target was but it wasn't them and they were all more or less thankful for that fact. McMillan zigged and zagged his way through the small but growing crowd outside of the Central Bunker before he leaned back whilst atop the rubble and started sliding down toward the interior of the building, making a few short stops to slow himself and regain his balance. Once his feet hit the littered floor he took a few steps to stop him self and brushed off his hands before approaching Schneider. "Berichten als angeordneten Herr." he said decisively as he snapped to near the side of the Obersturmführer.



TRANSLATIONS:
...Heavy Stütze. ..hel...ss...nee...to Flosse. ..barriers wird nicht ho. ..avy ungezwungen...
...Heavy support...hel...ss...nee...to fin...barriers won't ho...avy casual...

Berichten als angeordneten Herr.
Reporting as ordered sir.

[∬: Erik Schneider]

In a dazed state of mind, the Obersturmfuhrer confusedly stepped forward in an attempt to move across the room. Instead, he found himself tripping forward partially due to his weakened balance and partially due to some rubble that was littered across the room from the shelling. As he stumbled forward, he caught himself with his hands to protect his face, slightly scraping the palms on his hands. Perhaps, it had only been a feat of pure willpower that he had overcome his weakened state after the shelling. Couldn't be stumbling in front of the men, it was bad for morale after all. Schneider grunted, feeling weak-kneed, but insisted on raising himself up off the ground. Instead, he now found himself stumbling backwards and supporting himself against the wall which did not seem all that stable itself.

Slowly, he brought his bloodied hands upwards and wiped them against the fabric of his tunic. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched the bloodied legs beside the table slowly gather pool of blood around them. He looked at his hands, which only contained a few minor scrapes. Nothing serious, of course, but rather annoying. Sighing, the Obersturmfuhrer pushed his back up against the wall and slowly slid down it until he was sitting with his back up against the wall. With his head hurting, Schneider wondered if he was slightly concussed from the impact of the rubble. That would explain the dream... or rather... the nightmare. But no, he brushed such thoughts aside and stared blankly at the door.

Schneider was alerted by approaching footsteps nearby. McMillan? Already? Perhaps Muller was faster than he expected. With a grunt, Schneider pushed himself off the ground and slowly approach the bloodied table. His eyes fell down to the map again, before quickly shooting up to notice that the Sturmscharfuhrer was in the doorway. Nodding at the man, he stepped forward in the room and approach Schneider. He stood near, waiting patiently to know why Schneider had summoned him once more. Leaning forward, Schneider placed his palms on the table for support completely ignoring the tiny scrapes on his hands. The mild blood had dried now and he did not care for infections.

"Gut McMillan, hergekommen ich zu einer Entscheidung n. Wir umziehen in Richtung zum Süden in den Hoffnungen des Verfangens der Russen weg vom Schutz. Sie nicht erwarten, dass ein Ausbruch vom Süden und von ihrem Fokus auf unserer anderen Maßeinheit ist, die in Richtung zum Süden abgeschnitten." The Obersturmfuhrer pulled his right hand from off the table and moved over the map. He rested his index and middle finger on the map to signify their position and dragged it along down south to the Russian positions and then the encircled German unit. "So verrückt, können wir die Russen weg vom Schutz gerade uns verfangen, zerquetschen ihre Hauptkraft im Süden, Ausbruch von hier, retten unsere aufgefangenen Männer und Ausscheidungswettkampf viel russische Artillerie."

Pausing momentarily, the Obersturmfuhrer was letting the plan sink in. Schneider was suggesting madness and it took the average soldier some time to fully comprehend. But sometimes the most maddening ideas are the best. And other times... they aren't. Schneider could only pray it wasn't that later this time around. Now was time to explain why Schneider needed the Sturmscharfuhrer. "Sie sind mein älterstes NCO, McMillan. Und vermutlich der beste verfluchte Soldat hier. Ich glaube, dass es Recht von mir ist, Ihnen zu vertrauen mehr als meine Offiziere heute. Ich möchte, damit Sie mir helfen, diesen Angriff zu führen. So…, was Sie denken?"

Translations:

- "Well, McMillan, I have come to a decision here. We will be moving towards the south in hopes of catching the Russians off guard. They will not be expecting a breakout from the south and their focus will be on our other unit cut off towards the south."

- "So crazy, we may just catch the Russians off guard, crush their main force in the south, breakout of here, rescue our trapped men, and knock out a good deal of the Russian artillery."

- "You are my most senior NCO, McMillan. And probably the best damn soldier here. I believe it is right of me to trust you more than my officers today. I wish for you to help me lead this attack. So...what do you think?"

[Edward"Butcher"McMillan]

McMillan looked on as Schneider sluggishly gained his composure, he had taken the brunt of the penetrating shell, any man standing after that was worth his weight…in what McMillan wasn’t sure of, but it was something not only valuable but needed just the same. Gold is valuable, but not a necessity, lead is needed, but is it valuable? He thought for a moment before he turned his attention back to the task at hand. He stepped back to allow the Officer to approach the maps littered on the table and looked on, almost in amazement at the proposal Schneider had. Trying his best not to point out the obvious flaw in the idea to everyone subordinate to Schneider he leaned in toward the man and whispered his worry. ”Herr, Sie erkennen dass mit den Russen, die ihre Aufmerksamkeit zu unserer seperated Flanke zum Süden fokussieren, werden das, wenn wir uns zum Süden bewegt, wir gerade nach dem feircest, den die Russen kämpft, zum Tisch im Augenblick rechts bewegen bringt? Wir könnten leicht zum Osten bewegen und die dann Drehung danach Süden, vermeidend schwere Verluste, flankierend aus unseren Feind und hat noch eine Chance, unseren Schnitt ab Truppen zu retten. Ich bin in keinem Weg, der zweitens Sie hier Herr errät, ehrlich, aber ich will nicht die restlichen Männer die hier drinnen ist zweit zu erraten, dass Ihre Entscheidung, die denkt, dass Sie auf dem Kopf von jenem runden geschlagen wurden, dann selbst wenn sie Ihrem Plan folgen, der nicht sagt, dass sie werden, aber wenn sie Glauben nicht haben, in der es ihre Männer werden bemerken, unsere Moral wird niedrig bevor wir sogar sein Der Kampfherr.” Ed really wasn’t trying to second guess his current commander, especially in front of the rest of the officers around the destroyed room, but the chances they were already weary of his ability to think straight so soon after the explosion were probably high enough to render the unit ineffective for the moment being.

Ed slowly leaned away and retook a respective posture, the chances he just signed a contract for extra duty the next month and some change were very high, but he wouldn’t mind if his words had sank in, many lives would be saved with even more enemy troops needing graves. He swallowed slowly thinking Man I could really use a smoke right about now. and with that he took a breath hoping he hadn’t upset the man, his actions too could cause an uproar in the bunker, not only was the an enlisted man, but he wasn’t Aryan either.



TRANSLATIONS:

Herr, Sie erkennen dass mit den Russen, die ihre Aufmerksamkeit zu unserer seperated Flanke zum Süden fokussieren, werden das, wenn wir uns zum Süden bewegt, wir gerade nach dem feircest, den die Russen kämpft, zum Tisch im Augenblick rechts bewegen bringt? Wir könnten leicht zum Osten bewegen und die dann Drehung danach Süden, vermeidend schwere Verluste, flankierend aus unseren Feind und hat noch eine Chance, unseren Schnitt ab Truppen zu retten. Ich bin in keinem Weg, der zweitens Sie hier Herr errät, ehrlich, aber ich will nicht die restlichen Männer die hier drinnen ist zweit zu erraten, dass Ihre Entscheidung, die denkt, dass Sie auf dem Kopf von jenem runden geschlagen wurden, dann selbst wenn sie Ihrem Plan folgen, der nicht sagt, dass sie

Sir, you do realize that with the Russians focusing their attention to our seperated flank to the south, that if we ourselves move to the south, we will be moving straight toward the feircest fighting the Russians are bringing to the table at the moment right? We could easily move to the east and then turn south, avoiding heavy losses, out flanking our enemy and still have a chance to rescue our cut off troops. I am in no way second guessing you here sir, honest, but I don't want the rest of the men in here to second guess your decision thinking you were hit on the head from that round, then even if they do follow your plan, not saying they will, but if they don't have faith in it their men will notice, our morale will be low before we even get into the fight sir.

[Nathan Whyte]

Closing Post

Awesome one, guys.

McMillan: 10CP
Schneider: 10CP


Issued.