Work makes [Hautt] Free (Arbeit Macht Frei Pt II)

[Otto Wolff]

The flames crackled hungrily as they attacked the shabby wooden building, the gasoline helping the fire spread quickly and efficiently. The civilians gasped, screamed and pointed at the house that was now on fire, knowing that the flames would soon spread to the buildings next to it, most likely burning down the whole village. A younger man, apparently one of the people who had been living in the house, made a lunge from the line towards the burning building. An older man yelled in terror and grabbed the young man, proceeding to spout quick and horrified words at him. Otto did not of course understand what was being said, but it was not too hard to guess that the older man was most likely telling the man that it would be foolish to lose ones life over physical property. Or then again.. maybe the young man was more worried of someone? This remained yet to be seen, although Otto fully trusted his instincts. The partisans were definitely in this particular building.

The Kriminalkommissar took out his Luger and turned around to look at the drivers of the two SS-vehicles, motioning the men to back up the Blitz and the Mercedes to a safe distance. Once the village was fully on fire, there was no saying if the vehicles might be in danger also and it was better to be safe than sorry. The drivers were quick to comply, the black Mercedes turning around much more nimbly than the heavy Opel Blitz.

Otto turned around to regard the flaming building again, just in time to witness a man in burning clothes making a desperate leap out of the window of the building. The Obersturmführer was quick to order his men not to shoot the man and hurried in to put the fire out using a blanket. He might indeed be valuable as an informant, although Otto did not really look forward to interrogating him. During his short time in Auschwitz he had already spent countless hours talking to similar filth as this partisan and having to use someone to translate his words made these sessions complicated. He had been forced to resort to much more physical means of interrogation to get the information he wanted and this had not made him too pleased.

A few more partisans stormed out of the burning house, but they were quickly stopped by the hail of bullets from the SS men. Otto moved closer to the crowd of civilians, eyeing the surviving partisan very closely and making sure that the people could see that he was armed with a Luger. The villagers could hardly refrain themselves from running away in fear, some of them maybe wanting to dash into their houses to save whatever valuables they owned. Still, the fear of the SS with their guns was too great for these simple people and they huddled together, mothers drawing their children near and some covering their eyes.

Scharführer Hautt was staring at the flames, saying something which Otto did not hear. He proceeded to salute the burning building, a gesture which made Otto frown. This was no time for such overflowing theatrics, especially in front of civilians. Otto would have straightened the man out and told him to either help with the task at hand or stand at the side and at least keep his mouth shut. Still, it was never good to start straightening up one's men in front of civilians, usually such things were better saved for a later time and more suitable place. In this case these men were not really even under Otto's command anyway, so the Kriminalkommissar glanced tiredly at Schneider, it wasn't hard to figure out that the older man did not appreciate any breaches of military etiquette.

"Scharführer Hautt! Machen Sie sich nützlich und sagen Sie diesen Schweinen, dass sie ihr Haus verlieren könnten, aber wenn sie Recht nicht ertragen, wo sie sind, werden sie ihre Leben ebenso verlieren. Sie sollten sich als glücklich betrachten, dass wir sie nicht bereits geschossen haben, um uns mit Partisanen zu verschwören," Otto snapped at the man, just to have him do at least something useful instead of just standing around as if he didn't have a duty to fulfill like the other men of the SS.

Suddenly a series of shots rang out from the middle of the now roaring fire, three partisans armed with rifles making their way desperately out of the building through two of the windows in the back, where the affects of the fire were not as severe as at the front. The corporal that had been sent to guard the building from the other side, was forced to duck into the grass for cover and the partisans made sure that the man didn't have much chance to fire back. A random shot from the corporal was still enough to hit one of the partisans in his leg, making the man stumble down. Still, he the partisan knew he was fighting for survival and he dragged himself up, fear and desperation keeping the man going.

The partisans were obviously trying to make their way to the thick woods behind the buildings. The line of trees started a good distance away from the small village, but if the partisans managed to get that far, the SS would have to spend quite some time scouring the woods for the missing criminals.

From the front of the building it wasn't quite clear what was happening, but obviously the SS corporal was in dire need of assistance. "Ich werde hier bei einigen Männern bleiben, um diese schade Menge zu schützen. Stellen Sie sicher, dass sie nicht flüchten!"


Translations:

"Scharführer Hautt! Machen Sie sich nützlich und sagen Sie diesen Schweinen, dass sie ihr Haus verlieren könnten, aber wenn sie Recht nicht ertragen, wo sie sind, werden sie ihre Leben ebenso verlieren. Sie sollten sich als glücklich betrachten, dass wir sie nicht bereits geschossen haben, um uns mit Partisanen zu verschwören."
"Scharführer Hautt! Make yourself useful and tell these pigs that they might be losing their homes, but if they do not stand right where they are, they will be losing their lives as well. They should consider themselves lucky that we have not already shot them for conspiring with partisans."

"Ich werde hier bei einigen Männern bleiben, um diese schade Menge zu schützen. Stellen Sie sicher, dass sie nicht flüchten!"
"I shall stay here with a few men to look after this sorry lot. Make sure they do not escape!"

[∬: Erik Schneider]

OOC: Meh. Not my best post, but I wanted to get this post done.

Grimacing as he realized that the Scharfuhrer was saluting the flames that were extinguishing the partisan threat, Schneider closed his eyes tiredly. Perhaps, the two weeks hadn't quite gotten to the man who was mumbling something that Schneider partially ignored and partially couldn't make out. As hie eyes reopened to the burning world, he caught Wolff's gaze who looked tired, annoyed, and bitter. The feelings were mutual between the two men and it was obvious they were thinking the same thing. Even though they were going to burn the damned town to the ground, they were not going to give the civilians the pleasure of witnessing a cock up in the Waffen SS. It was not the time to be beating Hautt until he complied, which seemed to be the only solution these days. It didn't matter that Hautt spat at the flames to show heated disrespect for the Pollack partisans, the theatrics that the man was putting on was enough to be upset with his military etiquette.

The Scharfuhrer began to speak directly to the Obersturmfuhrer, asking what they would do with the new prisoner. Kriminalkomissar Wolff barked at the man to translate something to the Polish villagers as to make him do something useful. Schneider didn't bother to answer the man's question, ignoring him as he went about his new duty. Before there was time for Hautt to translate, a series of shots rang out from behind the building. Apparently, the men had realized that not all would be lucky enough to be kept alive and that they could make a run for it in the rear. The Corporal must have been putting up retaliation, otherwise ther would have been no such shots. Cussing, he realized they were going to try and make a run for the woods. Searching the woods for wanted criminals was a daunting task and nearly impossible in the Polish landscape. The Partisans were practically guaranteed to escape the clasp of the Waffen SS if they could make it to those woods unnoticed. Fortunately, Corporal Krueger had notified the other men of the attempted escape.

"Ich werde hier bei einigen Männern bleiben, um diese schade Menge zu schützen. Stellen Sie sicher, dass sie nicht flüchten!" Schneider nodded at the Kriminalkommissar who had volunteered to guard the front with a handful of the men while also volunteering the Obersturmfuhrer to clear out the back. "Müller, Vogel, Kugler! Auf mir! Bewegung schnell und vorsichtig! " The orders came quickly as Schneider grabbed a hold of his Luger and lead the the Unterschrafuhrer and Schutzes around to the back of the building. They arrived late it seemed, finding a trio of civilian dressed partisans fleeing. The knee high grass concealed any sign of Krueger, who had most likely died. The officer's Luger was quickly depleted of ammo as Schneider lead the men. Of course, he wasn't going to even come close to hitting the bastards, but the men dropped to their knee and took aim. The fields behind the small village became filled with the noise of crackling fire and wood as well as gun fire. The Luger, MP40, and two Kars merged into nearly one sound and the three men were quickly dropped.

"Muller, nehmen Vogel und prüfen, ob die bastard tote und einfach nicht gute Schauspieler sind. Kugler, helfen mir, Krueger zu finden. " It wasn't long after, that the two Germans came across the wounded Corporal. Krueger was rolling with pain, a bullet lodged in his left leg. Another burst of MP40 fire sounded off in the distance and Schneider's gaze redirected, to find the Sergeant flashing a thumbs up. The Corporal cried out in pain, but the Obersturmfuhrer silenced and reassured him. Signaling Kugler to grab the man's legs, the two lifted the soldier up and hurried out around to the town square, leaving the others behind to keep an eye on the only other escape route. Hurrying into the square, Schneider gently set the wounded Corporal down a safe distance away from any of the flames. "Medizinische Bedarfe! Wir benötigen irgendeine Erste ERSTE HILFE hier! Jemand erhalten mir etwas Gaze und Schwefel! " Schneider called out, pointing to the truck that had pulled away from the village to avoid the flames. Gauze and sulphur could hopefully be scavenged from the truck.

Translations:

- "Müller, Vogel, Kugler! On me! Move swiftly and cautiously!"

- "Muller, take Vogel and check that the bastards are dead and simply not good actors. Kugler, help me find Krueger."

- "Medical supplies! We need some first aid here! Someone get me some gauze and sulphur!"

[Deleted]

Before Hautt's question could be answered, Otto barked an order, telling him to translate for him, and inform the Polish bastards that they were to stand where they were, lest they lose their lives as well as their homes. Knowing that and order from Kriminalkommissar Wolff was of far more importance than the wonderings of a lowly Scharführer, he listened carefully, mentally swapping the words from German to Polish. Before he could open his mouth, however, a series of shots rang out, from the rear of the burning building. Hautt was not sure how many partisans there were, but he knew that the man in the back must be having a hell of a time with them. "Ich werde hier bei einigen Männern bleiben, um diese schade Menge zu schützen. Stellen Sie sicher, dass sie nicht flüchten!" Otto said.

From the sound of the gunfire, the Corporal at the back was putting up a helluva fight, the best he could for being obviously outnumbered. One shot sounded like it hit flesh, a soft kind of hisss-thump!, but he could not be sure of what he heard. "Müller, Vogel, Kugler! Auf mir! Bewegung schnell und vorsichtig! ". Erik hissed, and Hautt took it to mean that he ought to stay behind with Otto. Eyeballing the jumpy, nervous villagers, he shook his head and fixed his bayonet, still determined not to screw up. "Nicht auf meiner Armbanduhr... kein Herr," he said, holding his rifle tightly and facing the villagers. The day was getting warmer, and he was sweating profusely, also from the heat of the burning building, which could be felt from where he stood.

Even as gunfire erupted once more from the rear of the buildings, he turned his head away from the poles and used his itchy tunic collar to wipe his sweaty brow. Hearing the crunch of gravel, and the scurrying of feet, he opened his eyes. One of the villagers had bolted, the nervous old guy Otto had worked his magic on. Going into a crouch, he aimed down the heavy sights, shaking slightly. "Trzymaæ! he shouted. When the man did not comply, he shouted once more, anger and warning in his voice. "Zatrzymaj siê!" The slow old guy looked nervously over his left shoulder as he ran, and Hautt squeezed the trigger, his andrenaline pumping and his heart beating.

The bullet travelled, as if in slow-motion, farther away from Hautt, closer and closer to the old man. A woman in the crowd opened her mouth as if she were screaming, but all Hautt could hear was his beating. Thump! The bullet moved closer towards the old man, who was still looking over his shoulder, his right leg moving foreward as he ran. Thump Thump! Hautt could feel the flames from the building on him, making him feel as if he were on fire. Thump! Thump! THUMP! the bullet slid through the air gracefully, moving closer towards the ground, and Hautt thought his shot would surely miss. Thud. went the bullet as it penetrated his raised right leg, going straight through the calf muscle, the entry hole as big as a dime, the exit hole as big as an acorn as the flesh exploded from the other side, giving way to the bullet. The old man fell, landing on his right shoulder, his mouth open in pain.

Slowly, everything went back to normal speed, and he could hear again. The gunfire in the back had stopped, and Erik and another soldier were carrying a wounded Corporal. Setting him down carefully, Erik barked an order. "Medizinische Bedarfe! Wir benötigen irgendeine Erste ERSTE HILFE hier! Jemand erhalten mir etwas Gaze und Schwefel! " For a second he did not comprehend what he had said, confused by what was happening around him. One second he was all sweaty and wishing he were in a cool room with some icewater, and the next, blam! Attacked by a confusing series of events.

A few milliseconds went by, and Hautt looked from the old man lying in the dirt forty yards awau, to the wounded corporal in the square. "Vorräte?" he said, shaking his head. All of a sudden it snapped, and he came to life again. "Direkt, Vorräte! Ja Herr Obersturmführer!" he said, turning and scrambling for the truck. Going into a full-out run, he skidded to a stop at the rear of the truck, stumbling and landing on his face, taking a load of dirt in the mouth. Spitting out the dirt, he jumped up and over the tailgate, easy for a man of his height, landing in a pile on the other side. A small tan bag with a red cross on it lay in a corner, abandoned, next to a deck of cards and an empty cigarette case. Grabbing the bag, he turned to exit the rear, but tripped on an abandoned pair of boots, smacking his head on the tailgate, before tripping over the same boots once more, going over the rear head-first, landing painfully on his back.

Standing up, he brushed himself off and ran for the square, rifle slung over his shoulder, with a few more bruises on his face and neck. He was still shaking. Sure, he had shot men before, but he had never felt an andrenaline rush like he had. The man was a few more steps away from a ditch, and if he had gotten in there, they would have to comb the woods for him. A scary task, if there ever was one. Bag in hand, he skidded to a stop just in front of the corporal, almost tripping on his own feet and landing on the unjured man, but twisting his legs around each other and spun back into a standing position, like the flexible chung-foo eastern guys he had seen at a circus in Vienna, in the winter of 1929.

"Bekam es!" he said casually, shakily holding the bag out for Erik to take. Hautt hoped the Obersturmführer did not take his clumsiness to mean he was... defective. Defects tended to end up on punishment on the eastern front... or maybe those were rejects? Either way, Hautt knew he had a long way to go before becoming a hardcore soldier. He told most people he had gotten the mass majority of his scars fighting the russians, but in truth, most of them were from tripping over his own feet and knocking himself out on a rock, before rolling down a hill and landing on his comrades' fires... hot fires, at that.You get the idea.



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Translations:

. "Nicht auf meiner Armbanduhr... kein Herr,"
"Not on my watch... no sir,"

"Trzymaæ!
"Halt!"

"Zatrzymaj siê!"
"Stop now!"

"Vorräte?"
"Supplies?"

"Direkt, Vorräte! Ja Herr Obersturmführer!"
"Right, supplies! Yes sir Obersturmführer!"

"Bekam es!"
"Got it!"

[Otto Wolff]

OOC: Sorry for the boring post, my brain has been on vacation for the past few days.


Otto moved his thumb to flick the safety off the Luger and watched Erik lead his men to pursue the running partisans. Immediately he could hear the sounds of firefight ensuing, making Otto wince involuntarily. There was no telling how many partisans there still were left and most likely they would put up a very desperate fight, knowing that if they were caught, they would not live very long. The sound of multiple shots could faintly be heard echoing from the tree line and the walls of the buildings over the roar of fire. The Kriminalkommissar could only hope that the foolish partisans would not have a stroke of luck and manage to escape in the woods, but he did have a lot of trust in the ability of the Waffen-SS to keep this from happening. These partisans might have been a desperate lot, but they did not have the experience, knowledge or equipment of their opponents.

The villagers were still huddling close together, some of the women crying openly. Maybe they were wailing over the burning building, maybe because they were afraid or maybe because of the dying partisans. It was hard to say if the villagers had willingly hidden the partisans in their village, but nobody would have given them up after they had taken refuge there. Coming out with the truth could have still well ended up with them getting in trouble and they must have known that. The Germans cared little for the Polish people and the locals certainly did not receive any compassion from the SS. Maybe the villagers had wanted to do their part in helping the resistance, maybe they had been unwillingly forced to do it, it did not really matter much to Otto. They had gotten tangled up in things that they should have left alone and they were lucky to survive through it, only losing their homes and not their lives.

A sudden yell caught Otto's attention and the man turned around with a frown on his face. The old man that had involuntarily given out the location of the partisans just earlier, was making a run for it and Hautt was taking aim at the man. The Scharführer was obviously telling the man to stop, but the elder man was too afraid, thinking most likely that staying in the crowd would end up with him getting killed. In his panic the foolish peasant did of course not realize that running away was a sure way to get killed and soon a loud gunshot rang through the air, the old man tumbling down in pain. This riled the locals up even more and the crowd grew very restless.

Otto pointed his Luger up at the sky and squeezed the trigger, the loud sound of the gun making the attention of the peasants move to the Kriminalkommissar. "Bleib, wo du bist!" Otto commanded, knowing that even if the villagers did not understand German, they must have still realized what he meant. The tall, broad-shouldered man moved near the gang of people and ordered one of the men of the SS to go fetch the older man whose escape had been cut quite short. The elder was dragged through the dust, bleeding and groaning in pain, leaving a trail of bloodied sand in his wake. As the soldier dropped the man next to the crowd, a few people kneeled in to tend to the man, although they could not of course do much to help him. Otto certainly was not going to waste any German medical supplies on the worthless man.

As the sounds of the firefight finally seemed to lessen and finally end all together, Otto almost automatically prepared for the worst news possible, maybe his age had made him too cynical. He was greeted with the sight of a SS corporal being hurriedly carried back to the town square by Schneider and one of his men. Muttering a quiet curse under his breath, Otto motioned for two of the men to continue guarding the villagers and prevent them from running away or into the buildings. The Kriminalkommissar himself moved towards Schneider and the wounded corporal to see if he could be of any use. On Schneider's command, Hautt hastened to get some medical supplies from the Blitz.

The Kriminalkommissar kneeled down to study the wound of the SS corporal. Otto's eyes narrowed as his irritation towards these simpleminded villagers and the bothersome partisans grew to new proportions. Seeing fine German blood being spilled over these filthy people made Otto wish that he could have the whole village slaughtered for causing this outrage, but right now it was not possible. This time the matter was not in his hands and being in such a position always made Otto very irritated.

There was a loud groan and a crash from the burning building as the roof suddenly caved in, sending sparks and small pieces of flaming wood flying around. The building next to it had already caught fire and the villagers stared at the destruction in a quiet stupor. Switching the safety back on, the Kriminalkommissar slid the Luger into it's holster. Otto saw Hautt stumbling his way back to Schneider, it was a miracle that the Scharführer did not end up landing on the wounded corporal. Shooting a dark glance towards Hautt at first, Otto quickly directed his attention to the wounded corporal. "Sie werden leben, um mit einem anderen Kampf, Soldaten zu kämpfen. Die Wunde ist nicht sehr ernst," Otto assured the man in a low, calm tone, addressing the Obersturmführer next.

"Wir können diesen Rottenführer zurück zum Lager steuern, ihn einem Doktor bekommen. Ich würde noch die meisten Männer zurücklassen, um zu sehen, dass nichts von diesem Dorf verlassen wird, und dass die Dorfbewohner ihren Besitz nicht herbeiholen können. Es sollte als eine echte Warnung zu ihnen und irgendwelchen anderen Dörfern nahe hier dienen. Ich bin ziemlich positiv, dass wir alle Partisanen jetzt geklärt haben. Wir können den Rottenführer auf dem Mercedes nehmen und den Blitz hier für Ihre Männer verlassen." As Otto spoke, he helped Schneider by handing him the gauze for the wound.


Translations:

"Bleib, wo du bist!"
"Stay put!"

"Sie werden leben, um mit einem anderen Kampf, Soldaten zu kämpfen. Die Wunde ist nicht sehr ernst."
"You will live to fight another fight, soldier. The wound is not very serious."

"Wir können diesen Rottenführer zurück zum Lager steuern, ihn einem Doktor bekommen. Ich würde noch die meisten Männer zurücklassen, um zu sehen, dass nichts von diesem Dorf verlassen wird, und dass die Dorfbewohner ihren Besitz nicht herbeiholen können. Es sollte als eine echte Warnung zu ihnen und irgendwelchen anderen Dörfern nahe hier dienen. Ich bin ziemlich positiv, dass wir alle Partisanen jetzt geklärt haben. Wir können den Rottenführer auf dem Mercedes nehmen und den Blitz hier für Ihre Männer verlassen."
"We can drive this corporal back to the camp, get him to a doctor. I would still leave most of the men behind to see that nothing is left of this village and that the villagers cannot fetch their belongings. It should serve as enough of a warning to them and any other villages near here. I'm quite positive that we have cleared all the partisans now. We can take the corporal on the Mercedes and leave the Blitz here for your men."

[∬: Erik Schneider]

OOC: This will be the end of the thread boys and girls. Not much else to do besides ride on home. Which is why I am closing it after this post. Maybe who could do a Part 3.

Kruger was a lucky man, it would seem. Then again, with his medical knowledge, Schneider couldn't be certain. Hautt had taken it as the Obersturmfuhrer ordering him for the supplies and had taken off to gather them from the Blitz just outside of town. Motioning for Kugler to hold the man down and reassure him, Schneider adjusted the wounded leg into a comfortable position. Attempting to tear the trouser leg open to get a better look at the bloody hole in the side of his leg, the Obersturmfuhrer gave up the struggle. It would cause too much pain to aggressively rip the tight trouser pant leg away, so he merely shifted his head around to get a better view. There was only a single wound on the left leg, an entrance wound. There was no exit wound to be found, which made the Obersturmfuhrer slightly more nervous. The bullet most of somehow lodged itself into the leg, possibly hitting the bone and stopping inside the leg. It would be too dangerous to pull the infectious bullet out of the leg, as the femoral artery could easily be severed. If the artery hadn't already been severed.

Scharfuhrer Hautt quickly arrived on the scene with the supplies, continuing to make a fool of himself. Schneider motioned forward to protect the wounded man from Hautt's clumsiness, but the Scharfuhrer recovered himself. Breathing heavily and wiping some sweat accumulating on his forehead off with his hand, Schneider grimaced and shot a look at the soldier. Returning his attention to the wounded boyish soldier, he grasped the tan bag and dragged it forward in the dirt. "Sie werden leben, um mit einem anderen Kampf, Soldaten zu kämpfen. Die Wunde ist nicht sehr ernst. Wir können diesen Rottenführer zurück zum Lager steuern, ihn einem Doktor bekommen. Ich würde noch die meisten Männer zurücklassen, um zu sehen, dass nichts von diesem Dorf verlassen wird, und dass die Dorfbewohner ihren Besitz nicht herbeiholen können. Es sollte als eine echte Warnung zu ihnen und irgendwelchen anderen Dörfern nahe hier dienen. Ich bin ziemlich positiv, dass wir alle Partisanen jetzt geklärt haben. Wir können den Rottenführer auf dem Mercedes nehmen und den Blitz hier für Ihre Männer verlassen."

The Kriminalkommissar jumped from assuring the Corporal he would be just fine to ordering, or suggesting orders, to his younger Obersturmfuhrer counterpart. There were no time for words as Schneider nodded at Wolff before opening the bag up. "Sie sind ein glücklicher bastard, Krueger. Ich gebe Sie dass viel. Wenn es Ihre Arterie geschlagen hatte, würden Sie nicht mit uns sein. Lassen Sie mich ihn oben ausbessern und als wir ihn an Sicherheit gelangen können. Und Sorgfalt." The same way he had earned his reputation for his "Iron Lung" was how he had become adept at dealing with wounds on the field. That battle in Africa had gone dire when he himself had been wounded and had now knowledge of how to deal with it. Now a days, he kept his men knowledgeable enough that they could save their comrades life until they could get proper attention. He snagged a pair of medical scissors from the bag, the answers to his prayer. In a few short moments, the section of the trousers near the thigh wound was cut away to expose the wound.

The Obersturmfuhrer returned to the medical bag. A simple wound with a simple way to help the soldier. Sulphur and gauze. The sulphur always came first, to serve as a disinfectant to the wound and was packaged in with the gauze bandaging. With a filthy bullet nesting in the bullet wound the sulphur was a blessing to have packed in the bottom of the beige bag. Ripping the pack open, he poured white powder directly into the wound and spread it around the skin in closest proximity to it. Tossing the empty pack away, he was quick to bundle some gauze together. Pressing it down into the crimson, dime sized hole he let it soak up some of the blood. The top layer was wrapped around the thigh a few times, to secure the bundle of gauze against the wound in order to stop the bleeding and let the sulphur do its job. The quick procedure was done in a minutes and Schneider tossed the rest of the gauze back into the medical bag.

The Unterscharfuhrer had arrived on the scene to inform the Obersturmfuhrer that the threat most of been eliminated, before hurrying over. "Unterscharfuhrer Muller! Helfen Sie mir, das Rottenfuhrer an Mercedes zu gelangen. Scharfuhrer Hautt… sind Sie hier verantwortlich." The veteran soldier's muscles showed that he kept himself fit and in good shape. He grabbed the Rottenfuhrer by the heels while Schneider's fingers dug into the man's shoulder. Together, they lifted the dizzy soldier up off the dirt and and rushed him outside of the town where the Mercedes driver snapped to attention. Heaving the light soldier into the back of the vehicle, they raised his legs up to rest over the tip of the chair. Both to save room in the rear of the vehicle and to slow circulation to the leg and therefore limiting the blood loss. "Sie haben die Ermächtigung hier, Muller. Achten Sie es, dass Hautt nicht oben bumst. Seien Sie sein Berater, aber, wenn Sie müssen, Steuerung zu nehmen. " Schneider turned to the Sergeant, giving him a squeeze on the soldier and sending him off.

This time it was the Obersturmfuhrer who held the door open for the Kriminalkommissar. He politely allowed the man to enter the elegant vehicle first and sit in the middle. Following behind Wolff, Schneider sat in the crowded vehicle and close the door behind him. Making sure to scoot over to the edge to allow Wolff some space in between the Obersturmfuhrer and the wounded Rottenfuhrer, Schneider tapped the drivers shoulder. The Mercedes engine roared to life and set off down the countryside road. Cocking his head to the left, he glanced back at the burning village as if he could still feel the heat of the flames on his warm, moist face. And as if the crackling flames were still filling the recesses of his ears. Orders were given and the few men left behind scurried about the village, taking up arms and watching as the city burned to the ground. Black smoke raised into the sky, serving as a distant warning to the other Polish villages. Courtesy of the Waffen SS.

Translations:

- "You are a lucky bastard, Krueger. I will give you that much. If it had hit your artery, you would not be with us. Let me patch him up and than we can get him to safety. And proper care."

- "Unterscharfuhrer Muller! Help me get the Rottenfuhrer to the Mercedes. Scharfuhrer Hautt... you are in charge here."

- "You have the authority here, Muller. See to it that Hautt does not fuck up. Be his advisor, but if you must, take control."

[Daniel Brennan]

Mod Post

Wow, great posts, guys. I couldn't see much of a variation in lengths of posts (compared to each other) either.

CP:
15CP for all!


~Dan