Work Makes [one] Free (Arbeit Macht Frei)

[Deleted]

OOC: My Apologies for the shortness of my post, gents, I hoped to give a little room for you guys to expand...


IC:

Friday, June 7, 1943.

Oœwiêcim, Poland.


Scharführer Friedrich Hautt smiled happily as he climbed out of the passenger seat of a rusty Fiat truck, his marschstiefel crunching on gravel as he walked towards the rear of the truck. Still smiling, he dropped the heavy back door to the Fiat, motioning for the Soldiers inside. Carefully climbing out came a large group of foreign SS-volunteers, Most of them Romanian, a few Finnish and one of them Croatian. Behind them drove another seven Fiats, four carrying foreign volunteers, two carrying German soldiers, and one carrying supplies. In the front and the rear of the convoy drove a pair of Sd.Kfz 251/1D halftracks, those themselves carrying and MG-42 and crewing twelve men, including passengers. In moments, the gates of Auschwitz were crowded with troops bearing SS insignia, rubbing their eyes and viewing their surroundings, most of them jabbering excitedly in their own languages. Pretty soon, each ethnic group had formed its own ranks, the Finns eyeballing the Hungarians, and the Romanians looking suspiciously at the Croatians, leaving everybody wondering what the Bulgarians were doing there. The Germans had already lined up and were handing their papers to the men at the gates. All in all, the total number of troops numbered around 110+ including the escorts of the convoy. Looking for any familiar faces he might recognize from his unit, he quickly gave up and headed towards the thick metal gates. Then. a cloud of white and grey, coming from the Auschwitz-Birkenau camp to the north, slowly drifted down amongst them. At first, Friedrich thought it was snowing, and went to put up the collar on his fine SS overcoat, but caught himself and held out his black-gloved hands. Catching some of the floating grey dust , he sniffed it, and then tasted some on the ends of his fingers, spitting when he realized what it was, kicking the spit, stirring up a small chalk cloud from the gravel road.

"Juden. Sie kommen in diese Welt als Staub, leben als Schmutz, und sterben als Asche. Arbeit Macht Frei, tatsächlich," He said, looking up at the gate. Brushing himself off, he headed towards the gate, ignoring a group of young German soldiers gawking at his words. Stepping in front of a young Wehrmacht Artillery Officer, he was about to hand his papers to the MP, when stars exploded before his eyes as the Artillery Officer, insulted by the sight of a mere Scharführer skipping the line in front of him, punched the back of his head with hamburger-sized fists. Getting a grip and shaking the dizziness away, Hautt ducked around the next punch, spinning under it and behind the man, moving his arm over his assailant's shoulder and gripping his neck with his black gloves. Getting a good spot almost instantly, he squeezed inward, his fingers digging in through the sides of the Officer's neck, blocking his wind pipes as a landslide blocks a tunnel. Counting to twenty, Hautt let go just as the man's eyes were rolling into the beck of his head. Throwing the man into the gravel beside the gate, Friedrich eased the hat from the head of the man with his heavy boots, stomping it and kicking it away from the wheezing man. "Auschwitz ist nur für den kämpfenden SS," he said quietly, turning on heel and walking past silent rows of watching troops to the gate, handing his papers and saluting as he was granted access, walking through the gate past two rows of thirteen-foot high electrified barbed wire fence. Turning behind him, he awaited the arrival of the rest of the troops, taking in faces as they walked by, still searching for any hint of familiarity...



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"Juden. Sie kommen in diese Welt als Staub, leben als Schmutz, und sterben als Asche. Arbeit Macht Frei, tatsächlich,"
"Jews. They come into this world as dust, live as dirt, and die as ashes. Work brings freedom, indeed,"

"Auschwitz ist nur für den kämpfenden SS,"
"Auschwitz is for the fighting SS only,"

[∬: Erik Schneider]

OOC: Not a good move .

Schneider's arm rested on the opposite side of the truck door through the open window as the convoy made its way down the open road. The truck was second in the line only following behind the protection of a Sd.Kfz 251/1D halftrack and contained pure German SS soldiers. The 2nd SS Panzer Division had recently been pulled off the Eastern Front and the Obersturmfuhrer had found him in Poland with the task of helping fresh foreign SS volunteers get situated in an extermination camp for the Jews. Climbing out of the truck, he allowed the driver to go around to the rear and let the troops out. Straightening up, he waited for the men to adjust to their surroundings before giving them the command to get into formation to enter the gates of Auschwitz. From the front of the convoy, he watched as the men gathered into a line with their fellow countrymen.

Grasping his identification papers from his uniforms pocket, he handed it to a guard at the front gate and entered the heavily guarded camp. His eyes scanned over the disgusting place, almost instantaneously wanting to shoot someone. Preferably a Jew, he though as his hand reached down to his Lugers holster. He could heard the sounds of a small scuffle breaking out behind him and he turned on his jackboots heels with a burning anger. He watched as measly Scharfuhrer from his own division cut in front of a Wehrmacht Artillery Officer. For some reason, the Scharfuhrer thought being in the SS gave him the right to trample over their fellow fighting comrades in the Wehrmacht and for an other reason the officer thought it was a good idea to through a fit and attack the man. They were both acting like childs in front of foreign SS, German SS, Wehrmacht, and Jews.

As the SS man strangled the officer and dropped him from the ground, Schneider made his approach from behind. Standing over the wheezing man, the Scharfuhrer muttered something about how Auschwitz was for the fighting SS only. Grasping Hautt by the collar, Schneider through the man up against the halftrack and got inches in front of his face. Viciously, he hollered at his fellow SS soldier, "Scharfuhrer! Wer gab Ihnen das Recht, vor diesem Mann zu schneiden? Ich lasse nicht so zu, wenn ich im Befehl bin. Ich lasse Sie nicht täusche auch das Fungieren wie Kinder zu! Sie sind nicht besser als dieser Mann, weil Sie die Uniform der 2. SS tragen! Sie behandeln Offiziere mit Respekt oder erleiden die Konsequenzen!" Oberstumfuhrer Schneider despised the men low in rank who declared themselves better than all the others. The cocky bastards who need to have their heads beat in.

Grasping Hautt's shoulders, he tossed the man forwards towards the guard and made sure Hautt fell on his knees before him. "Wir respektieren unsere deutschen Bruder! Ich passe Sie nicht, mit einem Mitdeutschen zu kämpfen auf und eine Spotterei vor jeder zu bilden. Sie sind ein SS-Soldat und -c$sie ein Offizier! So beendigtes Fungieren wie Gottfluchkinder. Keine von Ihnen gehen unbestraft." Schneider stood over both of the men. The fighting merited a night in military prison, but with nothing but an extermination camp around, it would have to do. The actions of both men would be punished. "Schutz! Ich wünsche diese Männer, die unter Militäranhalten gesetzt werden. Ich nehme Sie irgendwo in den Kasernen an, um sie oben zu verriegeln," the Obersturmfuhrer commanded as two guards came forward to restrain both men. As much as Schneider loved the SS or however much he escalated it over the normal military, he would not tolerate such behavior.

- "Scharfuhrer! Who gave you the right to cut in front of this man? I will not tolerate such when I am in command. I will not tolerate you too fools acting like children! You are no better than this man because you wear the uniform of the 2nd SS! You treat officers with respect or suffer the consequences! "

- "We respect our German brethren! I will not watch you fight with a fellow German and make a mockery in front of everyone. You are a SS soldier and you a officer! So quit acting like god damn children. Neither of you shall go unpunished. "

- "Guards! I want these men put under military arrest. I assume you somewhere in the barracks to lock them up. "

[Otto Wolff]

A tall and dark man in the uniform of the Allgemeine-SS slammed the door of the Mercedes shut and glanced around him. Already Otto could smell the horrible stench of the various prisoners that had been cramped inside the camp. He did not really relish having to visit any of these places, but he had been forced to this most unpleasant task just a few days ago.

They said that the complex in Auschwitz was an astounding sight to see, not just because of it's size but also because of the finely tuned and planned system for the efficient and swift extermination of Jews, Poles, gypsies and other lowlifes. He had heard mutters of the system still being too slow for the tastes of the higher-ups, but glancing at the clouds of smoke billowing on the sky, Otto had to wonder what kind of astronomical numbers these people were actually expecting to see.

Otto himself was here on a mission which had taken him to different camps inside a very short period of time. He was weary of all the travelling and he had hardly time to rest and eat properly. He was also tired of seeing rows of half-dead prisoners, piles of bodies and guards who either seemed to relish in all the suffering or who had been left hollowly staring into nothingness after seeing so much death. Otto himself felt somewhat neutral to all the sights before him and he found himself wondering if he could ever forget the stench of rotten flesh and burning bodies. He certainly hoped it would not cling to his clothes too badly.

Otto was tall, dark-haired man in his fifties and he carried himself with pride. There was a certain old-school dignity to everything he did. Since he was now outside Germany and on official duties, he was wearing his SS-uniform. The front of his uniform was decorated with his commendations from the Great War and also his most treasured prize, the Golden Party Badge. He had been an active party member since 1925 and although he looked upon all the death he saw with some distaste, in his opinion it was still just something that could have not been avoided. Getting rid of this unwanted material was a dirty task and it had fallen upon the Fatherland to do what others could not. Still, it did not really mean that Otto wanted an active part in it all and he sincerely hoped he would be able to return to Berlin as soon as possible.

Right now Otto was here because of these disturbing happenings where prisoners had actually managed to escape the camps and he had the task of making some preliminary investigations on how such things could possibly happen. It seemed that even when these escapes and mutinies were ruthlessly retaliated by executing a number of prisoners left behind, the escapes did occasionally still take place. He did not see why the prisoners did such things, they were only trying to escape the inevitable, anyway.

A strange commotion caused Otto to snap out of his thoughts and the man turned around to regard something that was happening quite near him. A small scuffle was taking place between a soldier of the SS and another one from the Wehrmacht. From what Otto could see, the man from the SS was about to strangle the life out of the other soldier and Otto sneered at the sight. No wonder the prisoners were escaping through the clutches of the guards if they were fighting among themselves like this. Otto started towards the direction where all of this was taking place, but he could see that someone had already spotted the trouble and taken command of the situation.

An Obersturmführer had caught up with the SS man involved in the fight and was now yelling viciously at him. Otto was already close enough to hear his words and what the Obersturmführer said, greatly pleased Otto. He was a member of the SS himself, but he had also served the Kaiser in the Great War. He held respect only for those who also knew when to give respect in return, it did not matter what kind of uniform they were wearing if they were your superiors. Still, Otto was curious to know how the situation unfolded and of course, this did have something to do with the matter he was here to investigate.

Taking his Totenkopf-decorated peaked cap from under his arm, Otto placed it on his head and stopped a few paces from the Obersturmführer and the Scharführer whose rank Otto could now better recognize. "Wo liegt das Problem?" Otto asked, directing his words to the Obersturmführer, although his eyes lingered for a while on the Scarführer who had now been seized by two guards.


Translations:

"Wo liegt das Problem?"
"What seems to be the matter here?"

[Deleted]

Hautt was ready to pass the gates, still angry over being struck by a lowly second lieutenant, when hell opened up and spit out one of its many demons... Erik Schneider. Before Hautt could say 'papers please,' the angry Obersturmführer had slammed him into a half-track and was in his face, spitting and screaming. A full five ranks ahead of him, Hautt did not even attempt to explain his actions, and neither did the Wehrmacht officer, who by then was glaring murderously at Hautt behind Erik's shoulder and fingering his long-barrelled Luger holster. "Scharfuhrer! Wer gab Ihnen das Recht, vor diesem Mann zu schneiden? Ich lasse nicht so zu, wenn ich im Befehl bin. Ich lasse Sie nicht täusche auch das Fungieren wie Kinder zu! Sie sind nicht besser als dieser Mann, weil Sie die Uniform der 2. SS tragen! Sie behandeln Offiziere mit Respekt oder erleiden die Konsequenzen!" Erik screamed, his face turning red and a vein popping out one his forehead and neck, leaving Hautt wondering what he had done that was so wrong. Sure, he had skipped line, but he had taken what felt like a frying pan to the back of the head and wasn't going to let the watching SS troops down. All they needed was another Wehrmacht officer giving a speech on how the SS was no better than anyone else, and that they were specially-treated scum unworthy of their honors. Hautt would have had a lot of respect for the Wehrmacht if they had a better attitude, instead of looking down on everyone else lesser, and kissing the arses of everyone above.

It wasn't that Hautt thought he was better than the Wehrmacht man, it was just that he considered the SS to be a more pure, more tried and true... and loyal, than the men in the regular army. More fitting the image of a proper German soldier, in other words. Time and time again had Hautt filed reports for dead Wehrmacht soldiers, failing to break the Russian lines time and time again. Hautt began to relax his already tense shoulders, promising to himself to apologize to the Officer later. He was German, after all, and Hautt was already regretting his move. "Verdammter Blut-Andrang," he muttered under his breath, tossing and apologetic glance at the artillery-officer, who only turned his nose up. "G³upiec!" he snarled at the man in rich Polish, his anger already relit. He was probably from an upper middle class family, and had paid his way to rank. The worst kind of officer was the incompetent one, only an officer in name, not really having any of the duties or abilities of a true leader.

"Wir respektieren unsere deutschen Bruder! Ich passe Sie nicht, mit einem Mitdeutschen zu kämpfen auf und eine Spotterei vor jeder zu bilden. Sie sind ein SS-Soldat und -c$sie ein Offizier! So beendigtes Fungieren wie Gottfluchkinder. Keine von Ihnen gehen unbestraft."[/b] Erik said with a shove, leaving Hautt on his knees before an MP. "Schutz! Ich wünsche diese Männer, die unter Militäranhalten gesetzt werden. Ich nehme Sie irgendwo in den Kasernen an, um sie oben zu verriegeln," Erik said to the MP, leaving Hautt wondering why he was arresting the Officer. It appeared that cutting line was a crime, as well as starting a fistfight, along with defending yourself from said assailant. "Wie die Hölle kam ich in dieses Durcheinander hinein? Eine Minute werde ich für Arbeitspflicht Tötung-jews, und das Übersetzen des Verhöres der Häftlinge, und den nächsten angesetzt, ich werde auf eine Zelle in Auschwitz zugesteuert. Das Schicksal hat einen seltsamen Weg der Sachen," he thought, even as the guards rushed forewards to restrain him, and Hautt went compliantly, not about to go against the order of an officer. "Wo liegt das Problem?" A voice drifted to his ears, even ss he was about to be taken away to his cell. Another man had arrived, dark-haired and poker-backed, covered in many brilliant medals which made his eyes hurt. It made his Wound badge in black and Tank Assault badge look pathetic compared to his many relics, some from the the Great War. Wrenching his right arm away from an MP, he removed his crushed cap, revealing his pale blonde hair and putting a black-gloved hand to his brow, straitening his back and shoulders immediately before having his arm wrenched away from his salute, the MP leaving his carefully-kempt cap laying in the gravel and dust.

It was obvious that the man was not regular SS. His uniform was black, rather that the field gray or mouse gray of the Waffen, indicating he was either Allgemeine or Gestapo. Aside from today, Hautt had only seen a member of the Geheimestaatspolizei once, and that was when he was wearing an unmarked leather overcoat and an internal coat holster. Still, his black breeches and nearly knee-high boots had given him away, and Friedrich had almost forgotten about it... until today. Many thoughts began running through his head at a mile a minute. Why was he here? Was he in trouble? What did the Gestapo have to do with Auschwitz? Why was he here? None the of questions answered as Hautt was slowly marched away, leaving his cap lying in the dust...


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Translations:
"Verdammter Blut-Andrang,"
"Damned blood-rush,"

"Wie die Hölle kam ich in dieses Durcheinander hinein? Eine Minute werde ich für Arbeitspflicht Tötung-jews, und das Übersetzen des Verhöres der Häftlinge, und den nächsten angesetzt, ich werde auf eine Zelle in Auschwitz zugesteuert. Das Schicksal hat einen seltsamen Weg der Sachen.,"
"How the hell did I get into this mess? One minute, I'm scheduled for work duty killing jews, and translating the interrogation of prisoners, and the next I am headed for a cell in Auschwitz.. Fate has a strange way of things,"

"G³upiec!"
"Idiot!"

[∬: Erik Schneider]

Hautt barely struggled behind Schneider's tight grip as he furiously roared at the man. His face turned several shades of red with veins bulging out from his skin. Over the past few years, his heart had practically frozen with hatred and anger. The war toughened him and his dedication to his Fuhrer grew stronger. His passion for exterminating the Jewish swine and other scum multiplied. The once kind and slightly peaceful Erik had died in battle and had been replaced by a demon which was only lesser than Erhard Strumfelder and Rafael Wolfram. Much of the 2nd SS had realized this and his famous fatal lung wounds tale had spread in the division like wildfire. As his rage burst into a desperate need to cause pain and he hurled the man towards the ground for the guards to deal with, he heard a noise from behind.

"Wo liegt das Problem?" The call came out from behind Schneider, who turned to face a higher-ranking man. He donned the SS uniform, but was obviously not one himself. Narrowing down the possible explanations, Schneider realized it to be a member of the Gestapo on official duty at the acclaimed extermination camp. The aged man carried many decorations from the Great War as well as a Golden Party Badge. A great beam of respect shot through the Obersturmfuhrer who was only in his early thirties himself. Straightening out his back and clicking his jackboots together, Schneider's right arm raised forward in a salute before he eased up and turned himself to where the scene had unfolded. Hautt seemed to had followed suit in salute and actually shown some sense of respect, but ultimately probably viewed his punishment as unfair and unjust. Meanwhile, the Wehrmacht officer struggled against the guards attempting to restrain him as well.

"Diese Männer entschieden sich, wie Kinder zu fungieren und eine Spotterei aus der Deutschland-Armee heraus zu bilden, " Schneider answered his Gestapo superior rather coldly, disgusted about how a man under his command could act such a way. "Nicht sure, wie es genau begann, Herr Kriminalkommissar. Scharführer Hautt entschied anscheinend, sich etwas Respektlosigkeit zu zeigen dem Leutnant. Ein Kampf brach zwischen den zwei aus, in denen beide Männer verantwortlich gehalten werden sollten. Ich habe den Schutz bestellt, beide unter Anhalten vorläufig zu setzen und gehofft, dass es irgendeine Art des Militärgefängnisses in den Kasernen gab." The Obersturmfuhrer explained himself briefly. Schneider wasn't sure if the man condoned his actions or not, but being of lower rank, he decided to leave it up the man himself.

"Selbstverständlich sollte die Entscheidung bis zu Ihnen, Herr Kriminalkommissar gelassen werden." For the first time, Schneider's gaze focused on those behind the Gestapo man and those gathered even further behind him down the road. The men had all broke off into silence and straightened up before the Obersturmfuhrer. Many of them probably fearing the man's hateful lash that was known to be painfully delivered to men who mad such mistakes as Hautt. Others did it out of respect for the man, who didn't allow traitorous actions to go unpunished between the men. He grinned slightly at the response to his own outburst, before his eyes adjusted their focus back onto the some fifty year old man before him. Much like his own father, the man was a decorated veteran of the First World War and dedicated party member. The same respect Schneider had for his own father growing up was transferred over to Wolff.

- "These men decided to act like children and make a mockery out of the Germany army."

- "Not sure how it started exactly, Herr Kriminalkommissar. Scharführer Hautt apparently decided to show some disrespect to the Leutenant. A fight broke out between the two in which both men should be held responsible. I have ordered the guards to place both under arrest for the time being, hoping there was some sort of military prison in the barracks."

- "Of course, the decision should be left up to you, Herr Kriminalkommissar."

[Otto Wolff]

(( OOC: Sorry that I could not come up with any things for Hautt to react to in my post, but I don't want to come between an Obersturmführer and his prey. ))


The Obersturmführer turned around to face Otto and the younger man snapped into attention sharply, saluting the Kriminalkommissar. From what Otto could see, the Obersturmführer seemed to be dressed immaculately and he had sharp, intelligent eyes. He was a member of the feared and respected Das Reich, a division which Otto held great respect for. The Obersturmführer had taken control of the situation swiftly and brought all the men around him into immediate attention. The young Scarführer found just enough time to salute Otto also, but then an MP grabbed a hold of him again and the Scarführer lost his cap in the process as he was wrestled away from the scene. Otto eyed the other men nearby and saw how they were all now looking at the Obersturmführer, clearly worried that similar disciplinary measures would be next in the line for them for the slightest misdemeanor.

It was a good thing, Otto had little taste for such pointless bickering among soldiers of the Reich. The German army, be it either the Waffen-SS or the Wehrmacht, was known for their obedient and impeccable conduct and having scuffles among the ranks was certainly not acceptable. It took men like this young Obersturmführer to make sure that the reputation of the German army was not tarnished and Otto nodded with satisfaction.

Otto returned the salute of the Obersturmführer and listened to his explanation, the younger man's words a startling reflection of Otto's own thoughts as the man regarded that these two were making a mockery of the German army. He told the story of the scene which Otto had partly already witnessed and the Kriminalkommissar wondered for a while if such outbreaks were common. He certainly had not been told about them if they were and there was most likely a good reason for that. Still, it had been quite an illuminating experience and Otto made a mental note of finding out more about the disciplinary measures concerning the soldiers on the camps.

"Selbstverständlich sollte die Entscheidung bis zu Ihnen, Herr Kriminalkommissar gelassen werden," the Obersturmführer noted after saying that he had ordered for the men to be sent into a military prison for some time. The older man shook his head, raising his hand slightly.

"Nein, ich vertraue Ihrer Intuition auf dieser Sache, Obersturmführer. Ich würde zwischen Ihnen und Ihren Männern nicht kommen und Ihnen erzählen wollen, wie man Ihre Arbeit tut. Aber ich muss sagen, wie zufrieden ich sehen soll, dass diese Situationen mit solcher Schnelligkeit und Leistungsfähigkeit befasst werden, die gerade ist, wie es getan werden sollte. Sehr gut. Einige junge Soldaten scheinen zu vergessen, dass sie nicht kleine Jungen auf dem Schulhof mehr sind," Otto glanced at the two men who had taken part in the fight.

The Kriminalkommissar seemed to reflect on something for a few moments as he watched the guards take the two guilty parties away. "Obwohl.. Ein Gedanke ist eingefallen. Es scheint, dass diese Männer viel zu viel zusätzliche Energie haben, wenn sie gegen einander kämpfen wollen. Vielleicht brauchen sie gerade einen Ausgang für diese Extraenergie? Ich bin überzeugt, dass es einige Aufgaben hier im Lager gibt, die... unangenehm genug sind, diese zwei der Folgen solcher kindischen Balgereien besser zu erinnern," there was a hint of wry amusement in Otto's voice although the man was not smiling and he raised an eyebrow at the Obersturmführer.

"Aber bitte, Fühlen Sie sich frei sich für ihre Strafe zu entscheiden, Obersturmführer. Ich bin bloß ein Zuschauer auf dieser Sache," the Gestapo officer added once again, he really had no interest in what happened to these men and he was sure that whatever this promising young Oberstürmfuhrer decided to do, was for the best.

Translations:


"Nein, ich vertraue Ihrer Intuition auf dieser Sache, Obersturmführer. Ich würde zwischen Ihnen und Ihren Männern nicht kommen und Ihnen erzählen wollen, wie man Ihre Arbeit tut. Aber ich muss sagen, wie zufrieden ich sehen soll, dass diese Situationen mit solcher Schnelligkeit und Leistungsfähigkeit befasst werden, die gerade ist, wie es getan werden sollte. Sehr gut. Einige junge Soldaten scheinen zu vergessen, dass sie nicht kleine Jungen auf dem Schulhof mehr sind."
"No, I trust your intuition on this matter, Obersturmführer. I would not wish to come between you and your men and tell you how to do your job. But I must say how pleased I am to see that these situations are dealt with such swiftness and efficiency, that is just how it should be done. Very good. Some young soldiers seem to forget that they are not little boys on the schoolyard anymore."

"Obwohl.. Ein Gedanke ist eingefallen. Es scheint, dass diese Männer viel zu viel zusätzliche Energie haben, wenn sie gegen einander kämpfen wollen. Vielleicht brauchen sie gerade einen Ausgang für diese Extraenergie? Ich bin überzeugt, dass es einige Aufgaben hier im Lager gibt, die... unangenehm genug sind, diese zwei der Folgen solcher kindischen Balgereien besser zu erinnern."
"Although.. A thought has crossed my mind. It seems that these men have far too much pent up energy if they find it in themselves to fight against each other. Maybe they just need an outlet for that extra energy? I am sure that there are some tasks here in the camp that are... unpleasant enough to better remind these two of the consequences of such childish scuffles."

"Aber bitte, Fühlen Sie sich frei sich für ihre Strafe zu entscheiden, Obersturmführer. Ich bin bloß ein Zuschauer auf dieser Sache."
"But please, feel free to decide on their punishment, Obersturmführer, I am merely a spectator on this matter."

[Deleted]

Listening to the Obersturmführer and the Kriminalkommissar as he was taken away, he spoke up, the guards stopping, unsure of what to do. "Ich glaube, daß eine richtige Bestrafung aus mehreren Wegen getragen werden kann, in diesem Fall. Das Einfachste wäre, mich zu setzen und mein... Freund, in einer verfügbaren Zelle. Jetzt bin ich sicher, daß wir alle wissen, daß die Idee nicht sehr phantasievoll ist, und würde wahrscheinlich kein Gutes machen," he said, the corners of his mouth turning upwards cruelly. "Ihr könntet uns dazu bringen, Juden zu töten oder werdet die Körper von Juden los, aber ihr müßt erkennen, daß ich das Machen von der heiligen Pflicht jedes deutschen Soldaten, die ist, nicht daran als eine Bestrafung, außer einer Ehre, denken würde, warum ich hier in der ersten Stelle bin," he said, his arms still held firmly at his back by the guards. A small fire lit in his eyes, a wicked thing, full of ideas, none of them benefitting Hautt, but all of them creative and idealistic.

By then, Friedrich had realized that he was in a larger-than-usual pickle. It was quite easy to forget that Hautt was in the disciplined Das Reich now, rather than a rugged mountain division, where such fights were common, and even encouraged. It was in one such division that Hautt had resided in when orders somewhere crossed, sending a large number of men, intended for station in Norway, to the Eastern front, which was nothing short of hell for the men in the unit, all but a small number now dead, thanks to an incompetent Wehrmacht General... one of the reasons for his hate of the regular army. Today, it seemed like both points mixed, his old fighting spirit, and his hate of the Wehrmacht... something had stirred up inside him, and every second he had squeezed shut the windpipes of the officer was both an honor, and a goodbye to the men who had died under such a man.

Snapping back to reality, he jumped at a loud crashing sound, an ammunition crate dropped by one of the Finnish Volunteers, a young soldier who had been in the same truck as him, named Pieni, a weak, clumsy young man, who had the most charisma of anyone he had ever seen, and had his heart set in the right place. "Ei, älä wory noin Nousua on eksynyt luoteja, idiootti. Keskity pitämään ruutuun yhdessä! Tämä on se! Tuntuu et ole täysin arvoton, kun kaikki!" he shouted to the kid, ignoring Otto and Erik's conversation completely. Pieni was a weird kid, but Hautt had taken a liking to him on the long drive to the camp. Other soldiers had picked on him for his small size, but he had put an end to it quickly, ending with a few shit-shovelling details and one broken Finn toe. "Kaappari sen pohjaan, eikä sitä ole jaettu seuraavalla kerralla!" he shouted again, making the guards even more nervous, one trying to pull him away, but the other stayed his hand. Nodding, Pieni set the box in an accumulating pile to be taken in to Auschwitz, shaking his arms, numb from the weight of the small box. "Kun näen sinut uudestaan? Olet edelleen velkaa minulle kokeilla osoitteessa paperi-, kivi-ja veitsen peli," the small Finnish soldier answered, his face shining brightly. Turning towards Erik, he shook his head before replying. "Minulla on jotain tärkeää, että tuli, I'll löytää. Ja kuinka monta kertaa minun on kerrottava teille, se on kivi, paperi, sakset, olet typerys!" he said, scratching the small of his back with the tips of his fingers. "Ainakin vielä kerran! Minä näen sinut myöhemmin!" Pieni said, leaving Hautt roaring, his sides hurting as the Finn walked away to join his comrades.

Shaking off a guard, he reached down and picked his cap back up, dusting it off and placing it on his head once more, the mouse-grey material fine, and the brim sharp. Once again, the guards grabbed him and looked to Erik for guidance on what to do with the prisoner.



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Translations:

"Ich glaube, daß eine richtige Bestrafung aus mehreren Wegen getragen werden kann, in diesem Fall. Das Einfachste wäre, mich zu setzen und mein... Freund, in einer verfügbaren Zelle. Jetzt bin ich sicher, daß wir alle wissen, daß die Idee nicht sehr phantasievoll ist, und würde wahrscheinlich kein Gutes machen,"
"I believe that a proper punishment can be carried out several ways, in this case. The simplest would be to put me and my... friend, in an available cell. Now I am sure we all know that the idea is not very imaginative, and probably would do no good,"

"Ihr könntet uns dazu bringen, Juden zu töten oder werdet die Körper von Juden los, aber ihr müßt erkennen, daß ich das Machen von der heiligen Pflicht jedes deutschen Soldaten, die ist, nicht daran als eine Bestrafung, außer einer Ehre, denken würde, warum ich hier in der ersten Stelle bin,"
"You could make us kill Jews, or get rid of the bodies of Jews, but you must realize that I would not think of it as a punishment, but an honor, doing the sacred duty of every German soldier, which is why I am here in the first place,"

"Ei, älä wory noin Nousua on eksynyt luoteja, idiootti. Keskity pitämään ruutuun yhdessä! Tämä on se! Tuntuu et ole täysin arvoton, kun kaikki!"
"No, don't wory about picking up the stray bullets, you idiot. Concentrate on keeping the box together! That's it! Seems you're not completely worthless after all!"

"Kaappari sen pohjaan, eikä sitä ole jaettu seuraavalla kerralla!"
"Grab it from the bottom and it won't split next time!"

"Kun näen sinut uudestaan? Olet edelleen velkaa minulle kokeilla osoitteessa paperi-, kivi-ja veitsen peli,"
"When can I see you again? We still need a rematch at the paper, stone, knife game,"

"Minulla on jotain tärkeää, että tuli, I'll löytää. Ja kuinka monta kertaa minun on kerrottava teille, se on kivi, paperi, sakset, olet typerys!"
"I have something important that came up, I'll find you. And how many times do I have to tell you, it's rock, paper, scissors, you imbecile!"

"Ainakin vielä kerran! Minä näen sinut myöhemmin!"
"At least once more! I will see you later!"

[∬: Erik Schneider]

As the conversation between the Oberstrurmfuhrer and the Gestapo progressed, it became obvious that the man approved of Schneider's actions. Getting such approval from an elder man who had greatly served the Reich was an honor as the younger officer listened intently. The two men seemed to get the same pleasure out of punishing the men and keeping their men in line which also created quite the reputation. Grinning at the man's suggestion, Schneider opened his mouth to speak, before being interrupted. The Scharfuhrer began to babble on about punishment before his two superiors which greatly irritated the Obersturmfuhrer. Schneider glared at the fellow SS man with such intensity it was likely it would pierce the man like a dagger, but he simply continued on. The imbecile believed that he could speak out of turn even when he was being detained by guards and placed under military arrest. Considering simply shooting the man himself for the mockery he so enjoyed to make of the SS, Schneider turned to face the man.

"Ruhe! Sie sprechen nicht aus Umdrehung heraus, besonders wenn Sie zurückgehalten werden! Ich würde Ihnen raten, Ihren Mund zu halten geschlossen von hier heraus, Scharfuhrer." Turning to face his superior once more, he hoped to continue their conversation without further interruption. Apparently, that wasn't the case with such a fool like Hautt. The man engaged in a conversation in Finnish with one of the foreign volunteers which Schneider couldn't understand. Enraged, Schneider turned to watch the scene unfold as he managed to break free of his grip from the guards, leaving the Obersturmfuhrer to speculate them as being idiots themselves. "Ruhe! Sie sprechen nicht aus Umdrehung heraus, besonders wenn Sie zurückgehalten werden! Ich würde Ihnen raten, Ihren Mund zu halten geschlossen von hier heraus, Scharfuhrer."

The guards had rushed forward and begun to use force as they detained Hautt. If the fool spoke again, Schneider was contemplating an execution right on the spot. "Ich genieße Ihren Rat und werde durch ihn bleiben. Beide Männer werden in Militärgefängnis gelegt und gezwungen, harte Arbeit um das Lager zu tun, wie Sie vorschlugen. Der Wehrmacht Offizier erleidet eine Woche dieser Bestrafung. Was das Scharfuhrer anbetrifft, er erleidet zwei Wochen. Ich achte es, dass meine Vorgesetzten von seinen Tätigkeiten erlernen." Glancing back at Hautt, he half expected a response, but saw the guards were holding him back and preventing him from speech. The Wehrmacht was more fearful of Schneider and Wolff and had submitted to his punishment as well as allowed the guards to detain him successfully. The day was beginning to run more smoothly as the ashes poured out of the chimneys and rained over some of the men.

"Gut Männer, lässt heraus umziehen!" Schneider commanded, intending to do his duty at getting the men situated in Auschwitz. He followed in first with the Gestapo man at his side as they trailed behind the guards dragging the prisoners into camp. They were lead to the barracks for the men, where there was a holding cell to place the men. At last, the men were actually thrown into a prison cell and locked away. It was pleasing site to see the fools behind military bars and to know they would be forced into hard labor as well. A brilliant suggestion on the part of the KriminalKommissar. "Diese Männer sollen unter bewaffnete Wache ständig bleiben. Sie werden für Arbeit um das Lager täglich festgelegt und bleiben unter Schutz bei diese Aufgabe außerdem erfüllen. Sie werden empfangen ihre Nahrung in ihren Zellen und gewährt, jede wenigen Tage zu duschen. Ich gelange zurück an Sie mit vollen Aufträgen und besagtem Zeitplan bald." He explained to the guard of superior rank.

Translations:

- "Silence! You will not speak out of turn, especially when you are being detained! I would advise you keep your mouth shut from here out, Scharfuhrer. "

- "Scharfuhrer Hautt! You're disobedience will not go unpunished! Guards silence that man and detain him! Another word from you, Scharfuhrer, and you will face severe punishment."

- "I enjoy your advice and will abide by it. Both men will be placed in military prison and forced to do hard labor around the camp as you suggested. The Wehrmacht Officer will suffer one week of this punishment. As for the Scharfuhrer, he will suffer two weeks. I shall see to it that my superiors learn of his actions. "

- "Alright men, lets move out!"

- "These men are to remain under armed guard at all times. They will be scheduled for labor around the camp daily and will remain under guard while fulfilling that duty as well. They shall receive their food in their cells and be allowed to shower every few days. I will get back to you with full orders and said schedule soon. "

[Otto Wolff]

(( OOC: Well, here is the explosion Erik ordered, enjoy it! ))

It seemed as if the Obersturmführer and the Kriminalkommissar were thinking with one mind, as Otto's advice seemed to please the younger man. Both of them were undoubtedly now thinking of how unpleasant, yet educational a good spot of work would be for the two men involved in the fight. It seemed as if the younger officer was about to say something, but was rudely interrupted by the Scharführer who seemed to find it fit to comment on the Obersturmführer's decision and Wolff's ideas.

Otto found this rudeness appalling and he was about to spout quite sharp and offensive words towards the Scharführer before he remembered to restrain himself. It was not his task, it was one for the young officer and he was already on the top of his game, telling the Scarführer to keep his mouth shut. Such boldness in a SS-man, Otto had hardly ever witnessed unruly behaviour such as this in what should have been the Reich's finest. You would have thought that these men were properly broken in during their intensive training, but apparently the training had not been enough for this Scharführer to teach him his place.

Otto looked once again at the Obersturmführer to continue their discussion, but again they were disturbed by the insolent Scharführer. He had broken free from the grasp of the guard and was talking to one of the foreign SS men in Finnish. It was a language Otto had some proficiency in, although he had not found time to become very fluent in it. While Otto had still been a child, they had been living in Stockholm and one of the maids in the house had been a young Finnish girl by the name of Riina. He had learned some Finnish from her and had tried to expand his knowledge later on, but there had rarely been need for the language in his work.

The Scharführer was now however instructing a small Finnish man on his work, as if it had been any of his concern now that the Obersturmführer had clearly indicated that he was to be punished and detained. Otto could only imagine how the young Obersturmführer must have felt with such bold and out-of-conduct behaviour being presented in front of himself and an officer of the Gestapo. The young officer quickly burst into angry words again. Otto felt some satisfaction when he heard the Obersturmführer order a longer punishment for the reckless Scharführer. The man clearly knew how to handle his soldiers and undoubtedly also made the Fatherland proud on the battlefield.

Accompanied by Otto and the young officer, the Scharführer and the Wehrmacht officer were both marched to the barracks and into the holding cell. As the door clicked close, Otto felt at least some sense of peace for finally seeing the matter settled. He listened to the orders of the Obersturmführer, nodding slightly to himself as he heard his words. He had already picked up the name of reckless Scharführer from the previous conversation and made sure that he would be later able to be connect the name of Hautt with this face. It was one of Otto's useful skills, he had a very good memory when it came to remembering the names and faces of people, a skill he often had to use while working in the Gestapo.

Still, he had not heard the name of this promising young Obersturmführer and Otto regarded him again, crossing his arms behind his back. "Lobenswerte Arbeit, Obersturmführer. Ich bedauere, dass wir noch nicht vorgestellt worden sind. Ich bin Kriminalkommissar Wolff. Ich muss sagen, dass ich mich nicht erinnere, als ich so enttäuscht durch die Handlungen von jemandem vom SS letzt gewesen bin..." he said as he glanced at Hautt. "Und doch auch zur gleichen Zeit unermesslich zufrieden mit dem Sehen solcher schnellen und klugen Handlungen von einem Offizier," Otto nodded at the Obersturmführer appreciatively.

Otto did not have much time to continue the discussion with the Obersturmführer besides learning his name, when there was a strange commotion outside the barracks. He could faintly hear some yelling and Otto turned around slightly to better regard the sounds. The MP's who had just pushed the fresh detainees into their cells seemed puzzled also, so clearly something out of the ordinary was happening.

Otto had really no time to say anything, as the reality around him seemed to shatter into a huge explosion. It was a deafening, roaring sound which seemed to make him entirely deaf for a while. There was absolutely nothing he could have done in time to protect himself from the effects of the explosion. A huge force threw the Kriminalkommissar down on the floor and he could feel something flying just over his head. It was if everything had been slowed down for a moment and he could feel the debris raining down all around him.

After that it was almost eerily silent for a few seconds and Otto opened his eyes, feeling dazed and light-headed, his ears were ringing painfully. A warm trickle of blood was making it's way down Otto's ear and neck and the Kriminalkommissar raised a hand to wipe the blood off, the dust in the air making him cough. Looking around, he only now started to understand the force of the horrifying explosion. He could see several men lying around some distance away, now silent and lifeless, men he had just seen standing around and talking. Blinking slowly, Otto made an attempt of getting up from the floor, although his body ached horribly and it felt like if he was trying to move underwater.


Translations:

"Lobenswerte Arbeit, Obersturmführer. Ich bedauere, dass wir noch nicht vorgestellt worden sind. Ich bin Kriminalkommissar Wolff. Ich muss sagen, dass ich mich nicht erinnere, als ich so enttäuscht durch die Handlungen von jemandem vom SS letzt gewesen bin..."
"Commendable work, Obersturmführer. I regret that we have not been yet introduced. I am Kriminalkommissar Wolff. I must say that I do not remember when I have been last so disappointed by the actions of someone from the SS..."

"Und doch auch zur gleichen Zeit unermesslich zufrieden mit dem Sehen solcher schnellen und klugen Handlungen von einem Offizier."
"Yet also at the same time immensely pleased with seeing such swift and wise actions from an officer."

[Deleted]

A moment after Pieni had walked away to rejoin his Comrades, Hautt's smile faded as Erik roared at him to shut up. Hautt was immediately offended, considering the circumstances. Before he could open his mouth, one of the guards reached down to the gravel road and picked up a wad of dirty cloth, once a Russian POW's sock, and stuffed it in his mouth. By then, Erik seemed to be done kissing Wolff's arse, and one of the guards reached for a strand of wire, and binded his hands together, the Wehrmacht officer smirking the entire time. Hautt's hate for Wehrmacht officers was quickly spreading to the SS, due to the injustice of it all. A great morale booster for the foreigners it was, seeing of of their own yelled at and detained. What stuck a dagger in his core even more was that Erik, an SS man himself, extended his so-called sentence because he had kept a Foreigner from trouble as he had. He was not resisting in any way, aside from grabbing his hat, after which he willingly let the guards grab him again. For his actions to be interpreted as disrespectful, and out of order pointed towards what Hautt thought was poor judgment on the Obersturmführer's part. Erik was doing the easy thing, handing out punishments, rather than talking to each soldier and getting the story out of them, and a chance to explain or apologize. Erik acted as if he should automatically be attuned to the ways of the Waffen, when in fact, he had only been in Das Reich for the better part of nine months, the years bofore that spent in his rugged mountain division, which Hautt had thought to be what the rest of the Waffen was like. His nine months in Das Reich, and he had only participated in drills, mostly doing paperwork and not really getting to know the division and it's ways. What none of them realized was that he was not been trained properly in the regular SS, what little training he was given being general stuff, like learning to fire a rifle and basic stuff, never a lesson on conduct. His true training had been conducted by the Sicherheitsdienst , or SD, before he had even gotten involved in the Waffen around early-mid 1941. He had been working in General and Interior Administration for the Gestapo, and he had been good at it, virtually everything involving the detection of actual or potential enemies passing over his desk. Basic, the SD was mainly the information-gathering agency, and the Gestapo, and to a degree the Kriminalpolizei, were the executive agency of the political police system. He was wearing his overcoat he had owned before he had gotten involved in the Waffen, and it still had the diamond 'SD' patch on the left sleeve, right above the elbow. He was surprised that Otto had not already recognized it, him being Gestapo and all.


Hot magma boiling up in his gut, and on pure instinct and andrenaline, he squirmed as they dragged him to a cell, locking him in, and as they did so a large envelope fell from Hautt filled with a long letter, several pages long, hidden in the lining of his overcoat which was ripped as they had dragged Hautt to the ground to be cuffed. "Scheiße..." he thought, ice cold fear melting through the anger. The paper was a letter from an Obergruppenführer named Oswald Pohl, a General in the Waffen-SS, requesting a man with intelligence experience for an examination of a man named Heinrich Schwarz, a man active in the Work Assignment Department (Abt. IIIa). Pohl had stated in the letter that he was considering appointing Schwarz as the head of Auschwitz-III Monowitz. Also in the letter, Pohl had stated that he wished to be certain that the recent outbreak of prisoners and inmates of Auschwitz had nothing to do with Schwarz, and to ascertain that Schwarz was doing his job properly and to the best of his abilities, to be sure that the problems that plagued Auschwitz-I did not spread to infect Auschwitz-III Monowitz, with the promotion of Schwarz in five months' time. "Make sure he was doing his job in Oœwiêcim, and he would do it just as well in Monowitz," the letter had stated. Searching for former-SD members, the Waffen had found Hautt, who they thought would blend well with the Senior-NCO ranks in the camps. The letter was sent to Hautt, and he had replied quickly, piggybacking and hitching rides from various Divisions, until he had come to the convoy for Auschwitz just as he passed the Polish border. He had gotten aquainted and had come to like the foreign troops, who seemed more down-to-earth and logical than the German-SS troops. They were less concerned about manners and respect, and more concerned about getting the job done and not making any more internal troubles and squabbles in the SS, much like Hautt. He had forgotten himself and his rushed Waffen training in those few peaceful days, mostly just content to be amongst friends, and have peace. If anyone inside the camp read the letter, his position of gathering information of Schwarz would be compromised, and Schwarz would have the opportunity, while he was detained, to cover up any potential, if any, tracks.

Everything had gone smoothly until his arrival at Auschwitz, where, urgent at getting in to the camp to do the work asked of him, he had cut line. The officer had, thinking he was deliberately insulting him, became offended instantly, setting off a rapid sequence of events too fast for Hautt's quick brain to handle. He had become confused and, not fully realizing what degree of detainment he was being put under, had sought to finish his immediate job at the gates, and had again, been yelled at by someone Hautt had not even had the chance to introduce himself to, or even properly salute. Before he knew it, here he was, laying on the ground, his hand held together by thin, rusted wire which cut into his wrists painfully, then being dragged into a cell with the Officer. Before he had the chance to make a grab for the letter, just on the other side of the bars, and before either Erik or Otto had the chance to ask what it was, an explosion ripped the earth, making Hautt, freshly uncuffed, reaching through the bars for the letter at the end of his fingertips, look up.. A few eerie seconds later, Hautt rolled and stood from the dusty cell floor, looking through the still-open guardhouse door. A few men in the distance were lying dead, most of them missing a body part or another. The ranges of injury differed greatly, and one seemed to only have lost a few fingers and a part of his hand, and another a few feet away wasn't much more than a pile of gore and bloody boots. A few survivors had shrapnel wounds, one soldier with a chunk of metal the size of a plate sticking out of his stomach, blood bubbling while he gurgled, blood and foam gushing from his mouth as his drowned in his own blood and vomit. A few, as Hautt could see, would live, but the numbers compared to those dead and dying were lower than he would have preferred, which brought worry, and that was that Pieni and his other friends might be amongst the dead or wounded, making it even harder to resist trying to break free.


One of the guards ran instantly to attend to the wounded, and the other haf-considered staying behind with the prisoner before rushing to join his friend. The Wehrmacht officer was kicking at the iron bars to the cell, taking his chance to try and escape. Hautt had his mouth was open to say something angry and disrespectful, but he remembered the Obersturmführer's order, believing it to apply until he was told to speak, and shut his mouth quickly, clicking his teeth. Remembering his letter, he struggled to get the yellowing parchment from the ground, found it to be just out of reach and was unsuccessful, sighing and taking a seat of a vomit and piss-stained wooden bench. It was then that he noticed Otto Wolff, lying on the ground a ways away, blood dripping down the side of his head and neck. He wanted to shout, he wanted to break free and see to the wounded, but his senses regained, he again, obeyed his order, hard as it was. He couldn't tell if he was seriously injured, and he could not see if Erik had been injured at all.. He had no idea where the explosion had come from, but Hautt just sighed and sat on the rank-smelling bench, the Wehrmacht officer sitting beside him and holding his hand out. "Ernst Remer," he said, and Hautt slowly let his grudge go and grabbed his hand firmly in his own. "Friedrich Hautt," he answered, letting his hand go. "Mir tut leid, vor Sie, Herrn, zu schneiden. Es war respektlos und unhöflich," Hautt said, his voice apologetic and earnest. "Wie mein Schlagen von dir war. Außerdem, du bekamst das Schlechteste am Ende," Remer answered, as the moans of the wounded began to drift to the cell, looking at Otto worriedly."Vielleicht können wir irgendwann einen Kaffee haben, nach unserem Aufhalten... Rede über unsere Unterschiede, nein? Ernst continued, to which Hautt nodded in wordless agreement. Standing up, Ernst walked to the bars, asking aloud what Hautt had been thinking. "Wird er in Ordnung sein?" he asked as Otto attempted to stand up, apparently having difficulty.




------------------------------------------------------------
Translations:


"Scheiße..."
"Shit..."


"Mir tut leid, vor Sie, Herrn, zu schneiden. Es war respektlos und unhöflich,"
"I am sorry for cutting in front of you, sir. It was disrespectful and rude."

"Wie mein Schlagen von dir war. Außerdem, du bekamst das Schlechteste am Ende,"
"As was my striking you. Besides, you got the worst, in the end,"

."Vielleicht können wir irgendwann einen Kaffee haben, nach unserem Aufhalten... Rede über unsere Unterschiede, nein?
"Maybe we can have a coffee sometime, after our detainment... talk over our differences, no?"

"Wird er in Ordnung sein?"
"Is he going to be alright?"

[∬: Erik Schneider]

OOC: Refer to these maps and the info on the revolt. It is loosely based on the revolt with some extra kick and action to make it better.

Maps: www.ushmm.org/wlc/media_nm.php?lang=en&ModuleId=10005189&MediaId=304 and remember.org/camps/birkenau/

Info: www.jewishvirtuallibrary.org/jsource/Holocaust/aurevolt.html

"Danke, Herr KriminalKommissar. Ich bin Obersturmfuhrer Schneider der 2. SS. " Schneider responded to the man's words. To gain so much appreciation from a superior was pleasing to say the very least. His eyes drifted to the camp's new prisoners, quickly noting that Hautt had dropped some kind of letter and was reaching for it. As Schneider slid the letter back into the mans grasp with his boot, some strange sounds came from outside the barracks. Glancing back at Wolff, he shrugged and began to walk towards the exit of the building to check the commotion out. Without any notice, the barracks suddenly exploded with heat and light knocking the young officer of his feet and onto the ground. Struggling to breathe right, he rolled around the floor coughing and choking on some debris that had managed to find a way into his throat.

Dazed and confused, Schneider raised his head and looked about the room. Most of the roof and walls had been torn off from the blast and the guards suffered similar fates. The only ones that managed to stay alive were the two prisoners and the officers. Glancing outside, he could see much of the camp had similarly gone up into flames as well. He had known there were signs of a prisoner uprising in the camp upon his arrival, but he had no idea they would manage to strike with such ferocity. Rolling over onto his stomach to get a better look at the other three survivors, the bars of the cell were practically ripped out from the wall. The metal rods clattered on the floor, leaving the two troublemakers exposed to the free world. Coughing violently, he shook his hand for them to go. "Es ist kein Gebrauch jetzt. Erfassen Sie uns einige Waffen, während ich zum Herrn Wolff neige. "

Working up his strength to get up onto his knees and hands, he crawled over the obliterated corpses of the previous guards. So incompetent, they couldn't even handle keeping the Jews from revolting. And now Schneider, his men, and some fresh SS would have to mop up the mess. "KriminalKommissar, sind Sie gut?" The sound of a voice was probably overwhelming for the man who was bleeding from his ears. Schneider began to check the man's body for other wounds and found a small piece of wood from the roof lodged into his left thigh. "Scheiße. Ich bin kein Doktor, aber Sie benötigen ärztliche Behandlung. Können Sie gehen? Lassen Sie uns diese Schweine aufwischen und Ihnen etwas Hilfe erhalten." There was a possibility that the wooden shrapnel had hit a major artery. There was no way of telling, but pulling the wood out now would simply result in more bleeding. Without hesitation, the Obersturmfuhrer removed his field jacket and applied it as a tourniquet above Wolff's wound. Unsure of how to treat the man's bleeding ears, he ignored the wound and hoped it wasn't severe.

The former prisoners arrived with weapons in tow. Grabbing the Gestapos left shoulder in his right hand and a MP40 in the other hand, he ordered for Hautt to help the man onto his feet. They heaved the man up off the ground, being careful not to injure him anymore. Looking to be in his fifties, Wolff couldn't last long without medical treatment. "Sie zwei gehen zuerst voran. Ich folge mit dem KriminalKommissar." Schneider ordered as he began to support Wolff's left side. Hautt and Rens headed out before the two, making sure to not get too far ahead with the wounded man following behind. As they came to the entrance of the men's camp, Schneider gently set Wolff down against a wall. Grabbing hold of his MP40 he gave strict orders for the man to stay hidden and down. Moving fast, he scouted out the rest of the camp as briefly as he could, before returning back to the rest of the men.

"Das verdammte Sonderkommandos haben sich aufgelehnt. Die Crematoriums zum Norden scheinen verloren zu werden. Es gibt Feuer einiger Handfeuerwaffen dort, muss irgendein Schutz sie weg vom Rest der jüdischen bastard geschnitten haben und durchlöchert sie innen. " He explained quick and fast, tightly gripped the cold, black metal of the MP40 as he glanced around to make sure they hadn't been spotted. "Einige der Juden in den Lagern bekämpfen außerdem mit behelfsmäßigen Waffen. In den meisten Fällen kauern sie innerhalb ihrer Kasernen. Einige von ihnen Muss sind in der Lage gewesen, den Schutz zu überwältigen und ihre Uniformen zu stehlen. Die inkompetenten bastard. Sie müssen erreicht haben, die Kasernen, die Haupteingänge und etwas von unserem Konvoi zu zerstören. Die Schwindler stecken unsere Männer unten am Eingang von unterschiedlichen Schutzaufsätzen und vom Lager der Frauen fest." The Obersturmfuhrer paused to let it all sink in for the men. He could still hear scattered gunfire and explosions to the North and West.

"Gut Männer, ist hier der Plan. Wir werden um das Menslager angrenzen und der Frauen von hinten anmelden. Sie durch Überraschung nehmend, sollten wir in der Lage sein, die Schutzschwindler auf den Boden- und Schutzaufsätzen auszuführen. Sobald wir oben mit dem Rest der Männer verbinden, können wir den Schutz zum Norden mit schwerem Maschinengewehrfeuer stützen, um das Sonderkommandos unten festzustecken und sie auszuführen. Keine Entweichen Auschwitz heute." His orders were hastily explained, but they didn't have time to waste. With the rest of the SS pinned down and the crematoriums in risk of being destroyed, they had to strike fast and hard. "Herr KriminalKommissar, denken Sie Sie können entlang kommen behandeln, oder möchten Sie hier bleiben? Wir müssen für dieses auf Arbeit schnell umziehen. Ich trage Sie auf meiner Rückseite, wenn Sie brauchen. Sie zwei erhalten in Bewegung. Ich hole Sie ein."

Translations:

- "Thank you, Herr KriminalKommissar. I am Obersturmfuhrer Schneider of the 2nd SS."

- "It is no use now. Gather us some weapons while I tend to Herr Wolff. "

- "KriminalKommissar, are you alright?"

- "Shit. I am no doctor, but you need medical attention. Can you walk? Let us mop up these swine and get you some help."

- "You two go ahead first. I will follow with the KriminalKommissar."

- "The damned Sonderkommandos have rebelled. The crematoriums to the North seem to be lost. There is some small arms fire there, some guards must have cut them off from the rest of the Jewish bastards and are holing them in."

- "Some of the Jews in the camps are fighting back as well with makeshift weapons. For the most part, they are cowering inside their barracks. Some of them must have been able to overwhelm the guards and steal their uniforms. The incompetent bastards. They must have managed to destroy the barracks, the main entrances, and some of our convoy. The impostors are pinning our men down at the entrance from varying guard towers and the women's camp."

- "Alright men, here is the plan. We are going to flank around the men's camp and enter the women's from behind. Taking them by surprise, we should be able to take out the guard impostors on the ground and guard towers. Once we link up with the rest of the men, we can support the guards to the north with heavy machine gun fire to pin the Sonderkommandos down and take them out. No one escapes Auschwitz today."

- "Herr KriminalKommissar, do you think you can handle coming along or do you wish to stay here? We need to move fast for this to work. I will help you walk if you need. You two get on the move. I will catch up with you. "

[Otto Wolff]

All sounds were muffled to Otto and he regarded Schneider somewhat slowly, frowning as he saw the man saying something but could not hear his words over the strange hum and whine that seemed to fill his world. He paid special attention to the man's mouth to understand his words better and nodded in answer, the Obersturmführer was asking him if he was all right. Otto wiped some blood off his neck and just tried to see which of his senses were still properly working. His other ear felt less painful and running his fingertips over the ear he came to the conclusion that the eardrum on his left ear had been damaged but the other one was still working just fine. The blood that was running down from the side of his head wasn't coming from his ear, but from a cut on his temple.

Otto directed his attention again to Obersturmführer Schneider, the man was looking at the Kriminalkommissar's leg and saying something that Otto could just not hear. He was already in the process of making a tourniquet out of his own jacket and Otto did not find it in himself to come up with words to tell the young man that there was no need to use a perfectly good jacket for that. The wound did not feel painful at all and Otto felt an odd sense of peace, even though he had just survived an explosion that had taken the lives of many others.

He soon noticed that the only reason he had not been feeling any pain in his leg was because of the adrenaline pumping in his veins. Unfortunately it lost it's effect once Hautt and Schneider hauled him to his feet and a sharp jolt of pain shot up from his leg. Otto had to struggle to prevent himself from grunting with pain, so instead he just gritted his teeth together and let himself be escorted out of the barracks, or whatever was now left of it.

Schneider helped him make his way outside and left Otto resting against the wall for a while, turning around and leaving for a short reconnaissance mission. Otto was fighting against the pain each passing second and he could only hope that his struggle was not noticeable to the men near him. Still, the pain worked up a welcome anger and frustration inside Otto and he found these feelings very beneficial as they filled him with newfound strength. He glanced at his leg where a sharp piece of wood from the building had wedged itself into his thigh. Bloody thing! He would not let a piece of damned wood stop make him sit here when there were more important things to do!

He placed his fingers around the piece of wood, knowing that removing it might just make the problem worse. He could not tell how deep in his thigh the piece of wood actually was and pulling it out could have been a very risky thing to do. Still, he could not move anywhere like this, so he was willing to take a risk. Closing his eyes for a moment, he tried to think of something else, although every muscle in his body tightened, anticipating the pain to come. With an muffled grunt, he pulled the splinter from his leg and for a moment horrible, sharp pain was the only thing existing in his world. With a heavy sigh, Otto opened his eyes again, flicking away the piece of wood which had dared to attack him in such a vile manner. To his relief, it seemed that the wound could not be very deep, although it was of course bleeding a lot more now. He removed the makeshift tourniquet and heaved himself up, noticing that his other ear was at least working somewhat better now.

Schneider returned back to his men and Otto turned his head slightly to hear the man's words with his better ear. The Sonderkommandos had revolted? How the hell could such a thing happen? Were the guards of this camp really so incompetent that they had not seen the prisoners arming themselves? A look of distaste on his face, Otto still did not feel that it would be right to interrupt Schneider who had now proceeded to give orders to his men. Otto straightened his back and was careful to not to put too much weight on his injured leg. He listened to Schneider's plan and waited until the Obersturmführer turned to regard him again.

"Herr KriminalKommissar, denken Sie Sie können entlang kommen behandeln, oder möchten Sie hier bleiben? Wir müssen für dieses auf Arbeit schnell umziehen. Ich trage Sie auf meiner Rückseite, wenn Sie brauchen. Sie zwei erhalten in Bewegung. Ich hole Sie ein," Schneider said and Otto could not hide his surprise after hearing the Obersturmführer's words.

What did Schneider think, that he was going to sit here uselessly because of a petty wound? That he was some old man who needed to be carried around and fussed over? Otto certainly was not old, he was only a bit over 50 years old and took meticulous care of his physical condition. He had a tall and muscled build and although he had not been boxing for some years now, he believed that he could still go almost as many rounds in the ring as he had used to. He carried a remainder from his early boxing days; his nose had been left slightly crooked after a particularly precise hit in a boxing match he had taken part in, but he considered the injury more of an trophy than anything else.

Maybe these young pups thought that Otto was too old, but he would show them differently. With a sneer, Otto regarded Schneider and raised up his chin while tilting his head sideways in a way that was very characteristic of him. "Obersturmführer, das einzige Ding das ich wissen muss, ist wo sie sind. Ich bin durch während meiner Zeit gewesen schlechter, ich werde kommen und helfen zu sehen, dass Ordnung auf diesem Lager wieder hergestellt wird. Und ich brauche sicher niemanden, um mich zu tragen. Seien Sie nicht beunruhigend, ich kann mit jedem sonst gerade fein Schritt halten," the Kriminalkommissar said, eyeing Schneider and clearly thinking that the man could not even carry the weight of the tall and broad-shouldered older man, anyway.

Looking around, Otto spotted an abandoned MP40, most likely left there by someone who was now dead. He bent down to pick it up, made sure it was loaded and that the safety was off, before turning to face the Obersturmführer again. It was obvious from the Kriminalkommissar's expression that he would be tagging along, even if he would bleeding to death and left half-deaf for the time being. There was no way of changing the stubborn Gestapo officer's mind and there would have been hardly any time for that right now, anyway.

"So, Wir haven nicht den ganzen Tag Zeit," Otto snapped sharply, mostly just to keep himself determined, starting to walk after the men that Schneider had just sent on their mission.

He had to grit his teeth together to cope with the pain, but he was far too proud to show how much his leg was actually hurting and only a slight limp was visible as the Kriminalkommissar made his way towards the women's barracks. He concentrated his thoughts on how he would be making sure that each one of these filthy prisoners taking part in the revolt would be brought down swiftly and that the order in Auschwitz would once again be restored.


Translations:

"Obersturmführer, das einzige Ding das ich wissen muss, ist wo sie sind. Ich bin durch während meiner Zeit gewesen schlechter, ich werde kommen und helfen zu sehen, dass Ordnung auf diesem Lager wieder hergestellt wird. Und ich brauche sicher niemanden, um mich zu tragen. Seien Sie nicht beunruhigend, ich kann mit jedem sonst gerade fein Schritt halten."
"Obersturmführer, the only thing I need to know is where they are. I have been through worse during my time, I will come and help to see that order is restored on this camp once again. And I certainly do not need anyone to carry me. Do not worry, I can keep up with everyone else just fine."

"So, Wir haven nicht den ganzen Tag Zeit."
"Well, we don't have all day."

[Deleted]

OOC: SHort post again, sorry guys.

Hautt sprang to his feet as Erik commanded him to bring a dazed Otto to his feet. Hautt's brain seemed to freeze as he saw a large splinter of wood embedded into Wolff's thigh. "Sie zwei gehen zuerst voran. Ich folge mit dem KriminalKommissar." The Obersturmführer ordered Hautt and Remer. Hautt was about to rush out the door, but turned just as he saw Otto yank the wood from his leg. Grimacing, Hautt reached into one of the side pockets of his overcoat and grabbed a small bundle there, tossing it towards Otto, landing at his feet. The bundle contained two short rolls of Gauze, some medical tape, and a very, very small dose of morphine. Since one of his duties included the interrogation of prisoners, and since no dead prisoner could talk, he had brought the medical equipment, just enough to keep a dying man alive and conscious long enough to tell his secrets. Since it seemed that the men he would have interrogated, the Sonderkommando's, from what Erik said, were rebelling, he would not need the equipment after all. Stepping outside of the barely-stable building, he motioned for Ernst to grab a weapon, watching as the man kicked aside a dead guard and took his MP40, leaving Hautt to choose between a semi-automatic Gewehr, or a Mauser Karabiner98k. Smiling, he grabbed the longer bolt-action, trusting his intuition. The Gewehr had been known to have jamming problems, and didn't exactly pack a punch, also less accurate when quick-firing, in the end, defeating the purpose of the rifle. Sliding open the bolt, he grabbed a stripper clip of five rounds from a dead soldier and fed the bullets into the rifle, closing the bolt and turning the safety off. It was time to make the Jews pay.

Letting Ernst lead, he followed the man down the main path between the prisoners' barracks, darting between the buildings and pausing often, heading towards the main source of gunfire, coming from the Crematoriums. The closest ones were Crematoria 2 and 3, so that is where they headed first, zipping in between and through the foreboding buildings, prisoners cowering, holding their hands to show they were not armed, and were not allied with the sonderkommandos. They did not hit any resistance until they arrived at the rail spur platform, adjacent to the main road through Auschwitz. Already waiting was a small squad of German SS soldiers, ducking behind a flatbed rail car. Hautt quickly discovered why, when a bullet flew over his head and landed a few feet behind him, pitting the concrete platform and spitting up hot dirt into his eyes, making Hautt curse as he joined the soldiers by the rail cars. Rubbing his eyes until the pain went away, he noticed the source of fire was coming from the womens camp, some from inbetween various buildings, with one lone prisoner taking refuge in the guard tower, a scoped Gewehr 43 in his hands, its previous owner laying in a bloody puddle at the foot of the tower, his neck twisted grotesquely, his face neutral. That the prisoner had missed Hautt with a scoped rifle from a few dozen yards away, his target standing in the open, confirmed Hautt's suspicion that these were not POW's from the Eastern front, but various ethnic jews from all over europe. Ducking lower as another bullet flew over his head, he motioned to Ernst, a few feet away, mimicking gunfire silently and pointing at the tower, and then pointing to himself, and his rifle, Remer nodded and stood up, firing the MP40 wildly at the tower, his shots missing, but fulfilling his purpose and forcing the rebel to take cover. Standing up, Hautt put the rifle butt firmly to his shoulder, his eye travelling down the cold metal sights, aiming at the tower, his finger held motionless on the trigger, his breathing steadied. As Ernst ducked to reload, the would-be sniper stood and Hautt smoothly squeezed, the bullet moving from the barrel of his gun, as if in slow-motion, and slapped into the stomach of the prisoner, the sound that of someone hitting a block of beef with a large piece of wood. The prisoner dropped to his knees, mewing soflty as he fell from the tower, landing next to the dead SS man, his bones broken and his stomach gushing blood.

With a cheer, the SS troops rushed like running water past the tower and into the womens camp, the gunfire and screaming beginning as the men began to flush out the remaining prisoners in that section of Auschwitz. Slapping Ernst on the shoulder, he stepped over the railbed and stooped by the man he had shot, still groaning in pain, ignored by the passing soldiers. At first the man tried to stand up, but Hautt slammed the butt of his rifle into the face of the man, punching him several more times, the man laying down again, dazed. In grim acceptance, Friedrich slid the bolt back, an empty shell landing on the ground, still smoking as he pushed the bolt forewards and down, loading another bullet into the chamber. Hautt rammed the barrel of the Mauser into the pfennig-sized bullethole, pulling the trigger again. The man screamed as another bullet went through him, the cry of pain turning into manical laughter as he whispered an insult in Polish, something about Hautt having a bastard father and a whore mother. His lips tightening and his eyes narrowing, he reached for the bayonet at the hip of the dead sentry, pulling it from its sheath and frog, the black, Czech-factory made blade whispering the doom of the man as he ran the blade across the Pole's throat, the blade scraping bone.

Eyes rolling back in his head, the man's bottle rattled, and he was dead. Hautt stabbed the blade into the chest of the dead man, leaving it stuck there. Erik and Otto should have been right behind them. Hautt reasoned that he and Ernst had made good progress, moving fast through the buildings, whereas Erik would have had to go at the injured Kriminalkommissar Wolff's pace. "...Com on wanre niht scri∂an sceadugengan," Hautt quoted poetically. Ernst raised his eyebrow, curious, but Hautt shook his head. Another time, maybe. The conversation of language was something Hautt could talk about all day. He had starting learning different languages when he was ten or eleven, and by the time he was twenty-five, he had already mastered seven different languages, including polish, french, and norwegian. Now, he could speak almost any language in Europe, excluding Serbo-Croatian, and Italian. He had started to learn Czech, but found it pointless and had given up soon after.

Hearing a sudden burst of renewed fighting in the womens camp, as well as in the crematoriums to the east, Hautt snapped back into reality, pulling the bolt back on his rifle once more, the shall landing next to the dead prisoner. He heard footsteps approaching, and stood from his crouch. No doubt it was Erik and Otto. Hautt could only have been a few minutes ahead of them...


--------------------------------------------------------------------
Translations:

"...Com on wanre niht scri∂an sceadugengan,"
"...From out of the wan night slides the shadow stalker,"

[∬: Erik Schneider]

OOC: Short post, I know. Bit tired and Hautt skipped some stuff around. How he expected to take out one guy and make it clear for the troops to come in and walk over to the guy and stab him idk, but it didn't happen.

Schneider suddenly realized that Wolff had the bright idea of tearing the wooden shrapnel out from its place, embedded in the side of his leg. It had been patched up with the proper medical kit somehow, but was still gushing some blood. The lucky bastard didn't realize that tearing it out could mean ripping his femoral artery wide open, killing him almost instantaneously. The elder man was too strong and stubborn to stay still with all the action going around in the camp and had taken matters in his own hands apparently. A rather foolish move, but one Schneider respected still. He was still much more competent that blasted Hautt and his partner in crime. The wounded, aged man was already on his feet and walking about while in excruciating pain. Grabbing a MP40, he gave a look at Schneider that confirmed he would be tagging along with the rest of the men.

"Sie sind ein starker bastard, Herr Wolff. Wenn Sie um mich sich nicht Sprechen selbstverständlich kümmern. Mein Vater ist genau wie Sie. Ich respektiere den." Schneider said not as an insult, but a word of respect for a man of his age. Most wouldn't have the balls to remove shrapnel from their leg and brave it out in combat. This man, a war veteran, seemed much different. The two men made their way rather slowly between the barracks in the men's camp, scaring much of the prisoners inside. Ahead of them, Hautt and Ernst were navigating through to the other side of the camp in order to flank over into the women's camp. From what Schneider could gather, there was sparse gunfire coming from inside the walls of the women's camp directed towards the rail/road entrance as well as impostors in the guard posts. It would be a tough fight to get reinforcements into the camp and inevitably win, Schneider could only pray that Hautt didn't get himself killed. At this point, he didn't entirely believe the man would be able to survive combat.

The two men arrived at the railway, to find Ernst and Hautt gathered and engaged with a Jewish sniper in the guard tower. Obviously, the man had no experience and was absolute shit with the weapon, resulting in an easy kill. Hurrying across from the women's camp to the cover of a rail car, he watched as Hautt somehow signaled to the men that it was all clear for them. "Scharfuhrer, was tun Sie? Können Sie nicht sehen, dass es mehr Männer in den Aufsätzen gibt? Erhalten Sie zurück! Kommen Sie nicht herein! Erhalten Sie zurück!" Schneider roared as he knocked the man aside and hollered at the foreign troops who emerged into the camp from the main entrance. As soon as the men stormed in from the gate, they were instantly cut down from the guardtowers. About five or six of the prisoners had managed to take up positions near the railway entrance and were cutting the SS troops down with ease.

Glaring at the Scharfuhrer, he got up against the freight car as a hail of bullets came down on them. Grasping the Kar 98 off of a nearby corpse, he tossed it to Ernst in replacement of the submachine gun."Sie zwei haben die Gewehre. Sie zwei nehmen den drei in den Aufsätzen nahe den Eingang heraus. Unsere Jungen wischen die zwei im Lager der Frauen später auf. Ich tue mein Fach. Wenn ich einen Durchlauf für dieses Volkswagen bilde, nehmen Sie die drei heraus. Gehen Sie!" The SS man throwing himself out in the open with wild sprays from an MP40 was surprising site from the towers. One of the Volkswagen's had halted on the tracks parallel to the entrance. The driver and passengers were shot dead at the outbreak of explosions. Diving into the cover, he was unaware if his dash had succeeded or not. Glancing back at the two riflemen by the train car, he raised his hand and signaled for them to finish off the Jews. Leaning over the two of the Kubelwagen, he desperately sprayed the rest of his ammo at the three guard towers.

The trio emerged from the fight victorious, with Schneider pulling himself up over the Kubelwagen. The SS troops finally managed to move in into the extermination camp. "Ziehen Sie auf das Lager der Frauen ein! Löschen Sie heraus die jüdischen Aufrührer auf dem Boden und in den Aufsätzen! Verschieben Sie ihn! Wir müssen Weise zu den Crematoriums auch bilden!" The Obersturmfuhrer barked at the men. He waved for Hautt, Ernst, and Wolff to follow him into the camp with the rest of the men. The door to door fighting in the compact space was intense, but fast and easy. Most of the Jews, weak from malnourishment and never had fired weapons were no match for the elite Waffen SS troops. The cut through the women's camp and cleared out the rebels, before heading North for the crematoriums.


Translations:

- "You are one tough bastard, Herr Wolff. If you do not mind me saying of course. My father is exactly like you. I respect that."

- "Scharfuhrer, what are you doing? Can you not see that there are more men in the towers? Get back! Do not come in! Get back!"

- "You two have the rifles. You two take out the three in the towers nearest the entrance. Our boys will mop up the two in the womens camp later. I will do my part. When I make a run for that Volkswagen, take the three out. Go!"

- "Move in to the womens camp! Clear out the Jewish rebels on ground and in the towers! Move it! We need to make way to the crematoriums too!"

[Otto Wolff]

The bandaging, although quick and slightly careless, was enough to stop the worst flow of blood on Otto's leg, but instead of using the morphine that Hautt had tossed at him, he slipped it in his pocket. This was no time for letting his guard down and he decided just to try and cope with the pain to the best of his ability. Even if it was just a small dose, Otto was afraid it would just work to hinder his ability to react to things and he did not want to risk it. He was also not ready to stay behind while good men were out there dying, although he guessed that some of the soldiers might have earlier regarded Otto as being just a meek desk worker of the Gestapo, accustomed only to signing papers in an office. Of course, it had been some time since he had fought in the Great War, but the instincts and desire for battle were still there. And when he would be later asked about his participation in quenching the rebellion, he could say he had done his part instead of just sitting in a safe spot while others did all the dirty work.

The men around Otto seemed to regard him as being foolhardy and reckless after seeing him pull the splinter from his own leg, but Otto could not care less. Many men serving the Fatherland had already lost their lives and if he could sacrifice his life to save many others, then he would die a noble death indeed. The Obersturmführer regarded Otto with a similar expression as many other men, but his sudden words came as a surprise to the Kriminalkommissar.

"Sie sind ein starker bastard, Herr Wolff. Wenn Sie um mich sich nicht Sprechen selbstverständlich kümmern. Mein Vater ist genau wie Sie. Ich respektiere den," Schneider said and Otto gave the younger man a small smirk.

"Ich bin überzeugt dass es interessant würde Ihren Vater eines Tages zu treffen, Obersturmführer." Looking at Schneider made Otto think of his own son and he wondered where the young Wolff was right now. He had not seen him for a good many years now, but seeing Schneider made Otto hope that his own son was now a decent and courageous man, maybe similar to this young Obersturmführer.

Hautt had already left for the women's barracks when Schneider and Wolff trudged after them. Arriving at the railway, just in time to witness an ongoing gunfight between the SS and a Jewish sniper. Otto could see the sniper going down and when he turned his eyes to glance at Schneider, he noticed that the man was no longer at his side and had moved towards Hautt in what had seemed like an mere blink of an eye to Otto. Schneider was scolding Hautt sharply, but it seemed that the Obersturmführer had arrived at the scene far too late to intervene. Several men of the SS fell dead on the ground as they charged and Otto winced at this horrible waste of life. The SS men might have not been Germans, but they had still served the Reich and losing them was a loss that could have been avoided.

Taking shelter behind the freight car, he turned his head slightly to hear what kind of directions Schneider was issuing to his men. It seemed like a rather risky plan, but Schneider had already jumped into action. Otto raised his eyebrows and smirked slightly as he watched the young SS-officer firing wildly at the rebelling prisoners, risking his own life to make the opposition dive for cover. The young man was maybe slightly insane, but his tactic seemed to be working. Otto stepped out from the cover of the freight car, firing bursts of bullets towards the guard towers, the riflemen doing the most of the work picking out the rebelling prisoners with their much more accurate weapons. "Sehr gut," Otto said quietly to himself, he had admiration to the way he saw the Waffen-SS working, although he had to remind himself that the men they were fighting against were hardly trained and nowhere near as capable as their ruthless opponents.

Their path towards the crematoriums was soon lined up with several bodies and although some of the unarmed prisoners tried to huddle in the safety of their barracks, many of them were ruthlessly slaughtered. The men of the SS felt no pity and they were full of anger and vengefulness after seeing so many of their comrades dead. Otto tried to concentrate taking out only the ones that seemed to possess some kind of a threat, but it still proved to be an hapless and mind-numbing task. There was no way to really know which of the prisoners were taking part in the revolt and which were not, so soon he just stopped caring. He received some spare ammo from a Rottenführer just as he was ready to resort to just using his Luger to continue the slaughter.

As they arrived to the crematoriums, they could witness a fight already going on. Apparently the revolting Sonderkommandos had taken shelter in one of the crematoriums and were continuing their fight with there. It seemed that they did not have any heavy weapons on them, where as Otto could see that the Germans were already hauling in machine guns to end the resistance swiftly.

The pain in Otto's leg was getting worse by each step and he regarded the Obersturmführer as they stopped to assess the situation at the crematoriums. "Obersturmführer Schneider. Der Sonderkommandos.. Wir brauchen einige von ihnen lebendig für das Verhör," he said, his words sounding slightly strained now.

"Stellen Sie sicher, dass einige von ihnen überleben!" he said in a louder voice so that the other men near him could also hear the Kriminalkommissar's words. "Vorerst," he added more quietly to himself as he glanced at towards the crematoriums.


Translations:

"Ich bin überzeugt dass es interessant würde Ihren Vater eines Tages zu treffen, Obersturmführer."
"I'm sure it would be interesting to meet your father some day, Obersturmführer."

"Sehr gut,"
"Very good."

"Obersturmführer Schneider. Der Sonderkommandos.. Wir brauchen einige von ihnen lebendig für das Verhör."
"Obersturmführer Schneider. The Sonderkommandos.. We need some of them alive for questioning.

"Stellen Sie sicher, dass einige von ihnen überleben!"
"Make sure that some of them survive!"

"Vorerst."
"For now."