Fuel for the Engine...[Dan]

[Nicholas Ealing]

Lieutenant Nicholas Ealing poked at the unrecognisable lump of grey splattered on his plate with repulsion. He had only been in the barracks for a few hours and already he was far from being satisfied.

Americans just didn't get food. How he longed for some Shepherd's Pie or Yorkshire Pudding...but no, he got...this. Perhaps it was unfair to point the finger of blame on the yanks soley, Nicholas reasoned. Military rations were the same disgusting treat whatever country you went to. The Officer's Mess, meanwhile...now that had real food. American, but still...still edible, at least. There was more than enough decent food to pass around in the mess...so why were the common men stuck with this rubbish? He didn't mention this, of course; he had been accused of bolshevism just the once and it was one time too many.

To some it might seem strange that a gentleman, a man within the special circle, would want to share with his less fortunate subordinates, but he did believe in equality and fair play. Within reason, of course.

Nicholas would have been eating in the officer's mess at that very minute but that was sadly impossible. Just two nights ago, a roaringly drunk Scots Lieutenant had thought that it would be positively hilarious to set a chair on fire. The flames had soon spread and the mess had practically burned to the ground. Three officers had to be rushed to hospital to be treated for first degree burns while the guilty Lieutenant in question was facing court martial. Nicholas sighed. It had been warm in the officer's mess...so warm. But here...it was freezing. Maybe it was just Nicholas. Months fighting in Southern Europe could severely alter your zone of comfort when it came to heat.

But then, at least it gave him an opportunity to get to know some of the privates and NCO's that made up the ranks of the 3ID. He was proud of the fact that he had managed to strike up something of a rapport with a number of the common men and genuinely enjoyed their company - unless they were pricks, of course. Most of the men were better company than the Senior Officers; Nicholas even found it challenging to sit through a square afternoon with a fellow Lieutenant. No, this was where he belonged. He only wished it wasn't so bloody cold.

He allowed himself to attempt to swallow one more mouthful before pushing his plate away. He rose to his feet and passed his almost untouched meal over to a pack of privates who immediately attacked it gratefully. Nicholas smiled weakly and made his way towards the large double doors that led to the main corridors of the base and ultimately, to his own comfortable office.

As he approached the exit, someone caught his eye. He swerved around and raised an eyebrow.

"Don't I know you? he said.

[Daniel Brennan]

OOC: It’s a much shorter post than my usual ones, but… meh.

Daniel walked casually across the grey concrete, feeling uncomfortable in his sweat soaked clothes. Well, it was actually a mixture of sweat and mist. There were terrible weather conditions in England at the present time and it was an unpleasant time to do PT… which was exactly what Daniel had been doing out there. What he really wanted to do now was get a nice cup of hot coffee from the enlisted ranks mess hall and relax for a few minutes. His face took on a confused expression as he walked up to the doors of the mess hall and a haughty looking second lieutenant walked out. ”Sir!” Daniel muttered automatically, noticing the disdainful look directed at his uniform; his PT gear that he hadn’t bothered to change out of. Technically he wasn’t allowed in the mess hall like this, but no one really cared. Well, that was before the officers had moved in… Some funny boy of an officer had ‘accidentally’ burned down their mess and this led to the officers having to be temporarily fed with ‘the men’. It was an unpleasant situation for both enlisted and officer ranks and everyone wanted the new mess to be built very quickly.

Daniel cautiously entered the large building; nervously awaiting the voice of an upper class officer asking where his dress uniform was. He attached a nonchalant expression to his face and strolled towards the counter where he could get himself a cup of coffee. He froze as a voice from behind addressed him. He turned around with a slightly wounded expression on his face to see who it was. He recognized the person, a First Lieutenant called Ealing. Although he didn’t know the man personally, he apparently was a nice enough guy to have as a CO. It was said that he wasn’t too hard on his men most of the time and could be quite friendly. Daniel hoped he was feeling friendly at the moment. ”Uh… no?” Daniel said, turning his answer into a question because he wasn’t entirely sure about the answer. Daniel was fairly well known in the Division; he had been there longer than most other people and it was possible that the Lieutenant had seen him around. He stayed silent for a couple of seconds before remembering his manners; "Sir."

[Nicholas Ealing]

Nicholas shrugged almost inconscpiculously; he was sure he had seen the Staff Sergeant before. He brought a hand to his forehead in a quick salute - he was the higher-ranking soldier, of course, but he reckoned that everybody deserved respect. Besides, whatever else he was, he never saw himself as a gentleman. Unfortunately, he had an upper-class accent, an immaculate uniform and a Lieutenant's cap that proved otherwise.

Suddenly, he remembered where he had seen the man and a torrent of information about him flooded into his skull. Daniel Brennan, Staff Sergeant. Irish blood, American citizen. Has seen action across Europe, served with distinction in the Normandy Landings. Reccomended for future promotion. That was all it said about the man in his file, a simple blotted page with a faded photograph attatched to it clumsily.

Nicholas had been toiled away, searching through the files of over a hundred men, the previous night, searching for something - anything - that linked them to William Luther or Erhard Strumfelder. David Bevan's file had still been there, even though he had long since departed to join the Polar Bears; he would have been a great help against Luther. Nicholas had last seen his friend on that fateful day at Rocerath but now...he could have been dead for all he knew. That was the worst part about being in the army. The uncertainty. He missed having David under his command...

If he remembered correctly, Brennan had recently returned from Italy. Nicholas had never had the honour of serving in that country - most of his battle experience had been in the colder climate of the Eastern front - but he was fascinated by every aspect of the war in the West.

"No matter. Come, sit," said the Lieutenant, gesturing for the Staff Sergeant to join him at an empty table. "Now then," he said as he took a seat himself. "Brennan, is it? Tell an old man. What's the latest in Italia?"

[Daniel Brennan]

OOC: Sorry about the delay. You know how busy things can get in the Easter holidays, what with being off school and all that.

Ealing saluted Daniel and Daniel saluted back somewhat hastily. That was one part of his manners that he had forgotten. He stood there and waited for the Lieutenant to say what he wanted to say; Daniel was getting hungry... But Ealing didn’t say anything for a few seconds. He just stood there in front of Daniel and stared into space, obviously thinking about something. He was acting like a new recruit who had just seen his first combat. Yet, Daniel knew the man was experienced in the field of combat. Daniel gave a mental shrug; maybe he was just tired or something.

The First Lieutenant ended the short silence abruptly and told beckoned Daniel over to a nearby table. Daniel nearly groaned out loud. He just wanted some coffee! As much as he wanted to get some food, Daniel couldn’t help but like Ealing’s posh, yet friendly, manner. He just had a way of talking that made Daniel want to listen. A confused look came to Daniel’s face. ”How did you know I was in Italy?” He said curiously. He had only got back a couple of days before and he had to say that he did miss the fine weather. Daniel returned to the conversation with a sigh. ”It was going grand until the enemy showed up. The just shoved us onto a beach with some half completed defences and told us to guard it. Of course we didn’t actually expect anyone to show up for just the little stretch, but they did. They were kids... The bastards sent a bunch of kids at us.” Daniel paused angrily to get a breath. ”There was me and three Privates defending the beach and there were roughly twice as much of them. They were just kids, but a couple of them were able to hold rifles well enough to injure one of the lads badly and another of them took a round in the shoulder early on too.” Daniel said. Surprisingly enough he had enjoyed telling this story to a few of his friends. Sure, it was terrible at the time, but it was just a story that had to be told.

”Anyway, I had a new Johnson Light Machine-gun, so we weren’t that bad off. Their leader was a bit of an idiot and he was out in front of his men. I know you are supposed to lead your men from the front, but the others were just about ready to run away; they obviously didn’t like being shot at much. I hit him quite a few times before he stopped coming forward. He put his hands up to surrender while the rest of the kids all ran away. I stepped forward towards him and took a proper look at him.” Daniel paused dramatically. ”He didn’t look any older than 14. I wasn’t taking a fourteen year old prisoner. I took what I thought was important documents off him and shoved him back towards his boat.” Daniel finished sadly and wondered if Ealing had wanted his life story when he asked how Italy was.

[Nicholas Ealing]

Nicholas leaned forward with interest. He had heard rumours of the increased use of children in German warfare but he had never known anyone to sample it first hand. Surely it was a sign that the enemy were more ruthless than Nicholas had ever imagined.

"Sounds like a lot of fun, I'm sure," said Nicholas with a wan smile. "You're seen as rather an accomplished fellow in the officer's mess, Staff Sergeant, I won't lie to you. Perhaps I can arrange for you to get your teeth into something a bit meatier? Perhaps in France...after all, we need as many troops as we can to kick Hitler out of the frog-pond,"

Nicholas scratched the back of his head and glanced over his shoulder. "Sergeant King!" he said, nodding towards the disshevled-looking waiterm who had signed up in the U.S Army to liberate Europe, not to wash dirty dishes. "Two coffees, please,"

King rushed off to fetch the drinks. An order from an officer had to be taken seriously, he told himself. Even if it had to do largely with coffee.

"Thought you could do with a drink, Brennan," he said, turning back to the Staff Sergeant. "I trust you'll stay and sit with me for a while? The coffee's foul, of course, but then everything is in this war, I suppose. Awfully fun, though, of course," he grinned and then a thought struck him. "Did you say...secret documents?"

[Daniel Brennan]

Ealing seemed to be somewhat interested in what Daniel was saying. Either that, or he was just being polite. He did seem like the kind of person that just wouldn’t say no to anything. Daniel smiled at his sarcastic comment. ”Yeah…” he said simply.

”Yeah, France would be nice” Daniel nodded and somewhat blushed at the compliment. A smirk crossed his face on hearing the Lieutenants nick name for France. It was easy to see his huge respect for them… ”But there isn’t anything wrong with Italy. It’s nice and sunny, the locals are friendly and the Krauts didn’t seem to be putting up much of a fight either. “ Daniel said, remembering how quickly the German boys had retreated.

He smiled as Ealing ordered coffee for the two of them with just a click on his fingers. It had to be said that there were some very good advantages to being an Officer. Sergeant King obviously wasn’t very pleased with his order; it was made obvious by the large scowl on his face. ”I was getting a bit thirsty” Daniel admitted. He grinned at Ealings remark on the quality of the Coffee. ”True” he acknowledged. ”But, I’m not sure I agree with you on the fun part!” he grimaced.

Daniel almost laughed at the grown mans boyish curiosity about the “Secret Documents”. ”Well, that’s what I thought when I took them from the kids pocket!” Daniel reached a hand into a pocket of his trousers. It was lucky that he had decided to bring the book with him while he had been running. Well, he took it practically everywhere with him. ”It actually appears to be some kind of Diary” he explained, placing the book on the table. ”But, open it up and you will see that it’s not written in German, or Italian or any other language I know of. I’ve asked a few people around the camp and nobody seems to know what language it’s in, yet it looks familiar to me… I don’t suppose you could shed some light?”

[Nicholas Ealing]

OOC: I'll continue calling you Staff Sergeant for this thread, say it was set before your promotion.

Nicholas tried to hide his dissapointment as Brennan explained the nature of the "secret documents". He felt a tad put out; he would have liked to see something exciting, something to help him forget about the turmoil that was ripping his family to shreds.

Nevertheless, his interest was piqued when the Staff Sergeant placed an old, leather-bound book down on the table before him. The pages were yellowed and stained; the journal had clearly been through a lot. Not many books had the honour of being MIA, Nicholas thought to himself.

"I doubt I'll be of much use translating," he grinned. "I can barely speak English, don't you know..."

He broke off as his slender fingers flipped through the book. There were few entries, each one in a language Nicholas could not read, let alone speak. But he knew what it was, or he could hazard a guess. A guess that didn't make any sense...surely?

"This looks Welsh," he murmured, his voice laced with amazement. "Or definetely Celtic, anyway. Could be Cornish or...Breton? Maybe even Gaelic..."

He glanced up at Brennan and thought about asking him whether he spoke the language but now was hardly the time. This was...interesting. Very interesting.

"I have a friend who speaks all the Celtic languages," he said after a couple of seconds, trying to sound calm even if his mind was racing with possibilities. "Mother's Irish, Father's Welsh. David Bevan. I believe you knew his brother? He should be able to shed some light on...on all of this. You don't mind if I borrow this, do you? It might be of some interest to me," he added, realising that he had been more or less talking to himself.

He waited for the Staff Sergeant's answer and lifted his cup to his lips. He took a polite sip and placed the coffee back onto the table. He furrowed his eyebrows.

"What the hell is a Celt doing in the Hitler Youth?"

[Daniel Brennan]

OOC: Sorry about the long wait. Didn’t know it would be so hard to adapt to school again after the holidays.

Daniel laughed at Ealing’s somewhat funny joke; his posh accent was very noticeable. Daniel watched as Ealing rifled through the pages quickly. At that moment Sergeant King’s grumpy presence returned and he placed two steaming cups of coffee on the table. ”Excellent…” Daniel breathed to himself. Sergeant King quickly hurried off again, hoping Ealing didn’t order him to do anything else. Daniel pulled his mug towards himself and took a sloppy gulp of it.

Daniel snorted loudly and smiled at Ealing’s joke about it being written in a Celtic language, but the smile was wiped from his face as he realised that Ealing wasn’t actually joking. Daniel interrupted Ealing. ”I lived in Ireland for twelve years of my life and although I’ve forgotten most of the language, I can still tell you that it is definitely not Gaelic that is written in that book.” Well, that removed one option from the list.

Daniel shrugged. ”Nah, you can take it if you want. I really don’t need it for anything. And no, I didn’t really know his brother. I only met him once or twice. I do know of him, though. He was in the 3ID for a short while. Echo Company, I think.” Daniel said. Daniel smiled slightly at Ealing’s exclamation. He was very confused by this… a Welsh boy in the SS? It was crazy… how could he know that Ealing wasn’t just playing a crude joke on him. He doubted Ealing would do that, though. He seemed too nice.

[Nicholas Ealing]

OOC: Don't worry about it. Not your fault you're a lesser being. If you want, you can make a final post too. If not, I'll ask for it to be closed.

"Thank-you, Staff Sergeant," said Nicholas gratefully, picking up the book carefully as if it was some kind of priceless object and could shatter into a million pieces at any moment. He slipped the book into his tunic's pocket and raised the steaming mug of coffee from the table for a much needed sip.

"Well, we'll know what it says soon enough," said Nicholas, after he had placed the now half-empty mug down on the table. "I could always be barking up the wrong tree, of course. Thousands of languages in the world, Staff Sergeant. It's good that we have so many...although I'm rather glad than only one of them is bloody German..."

The Lieutenant was still trying to work out how in God's name a Celtic child - for he was certain he was Celtic - had joined the Hitlerjunge. He supposed the likeliest suggestion was the Channel Islands; surely there had been Celtic children there when they had been taken by the Nazis? Maybe some of the older boys had been forced to join the Hitler Youth? It was unlikely but it was possible.

Nicholas sighed. Thinking about the Channel Islands was painful. It all just led back to the image of his nephew, lying dead on the grass, his eyes staring sightlessly into the face of the man who had ended his life so mercilessly...

The Lieutenant pulled himself together. Now was hardly the time to think about Strumfelder. Breaking down in front of a subordinate was hardly good for discipline, was it? He rose to his feet.

"It was nice meeting you, Staff Sergeant," he said, holding out a hand for the Irish-American to shake. "And rest assured, if this...diary...proves to be important, I will not only make sure you get booted up to Master Sergeant, but also buy you the largest mug of beer outside of Donegal," he gave the man a wink. "Éirinn go Brách,"

And with that, Nicholas Ealing exited the room, the diary heavy in his pocket, and thoughts of a Celtic child in the Hitler Youth heavy in his mind...

[Daniel Brennan]

OOC: Der final post! Extra quick because of the delay last time. *Ignores insults*

Daniel smiled slightly at Ealing’s thanks. ”Don’t worry about it…” he said, trailing off. His mind was still occupied with trying to figure out how a Welsh boy was able to wind up in Italy, serving the German army. It was just crazy… very crazy.

”When you finally do find out what it says,” said Daniel. ”Could you please let me know. I’m really curious about what happened to that boy. I’m not even sure if he made it out alive… he got fairly mangled by the Johnson.” he added the last bit with a wince. Shooting little children never did give him any satisfaction. Quite the opposite, really. Daniel wasn’t sure if Ealing had heard him, there. He seemed to be staring into space, thinking about whatever officers think about.

The Lieutenant came back to earth and started to get ready to leave, it appeared. ”It was nice meeting you too Lieutenant. We had a nice chat.” he grinned happily. ”A promotion? That would be appreciated.” he said with a laugh. ”And I do like the beer part!” The grin stayed on his face at the Lieutenant’s little Irish phrase.

Daniel watched as the Lieutenant strolled out of the room, looking very preoccupied. Daniel gulped down the last of his own drink and stood up to leave. He nodded to Sergeant King, who looked happy that the bossy Lieutenant had left, and walked out the door.

[PuNk! ™]

Moderation Post:[/b]

Well, this thread started 16th March, ended 25th April and didn't reach two pages, slightly disappointed. Anyway, constant length maintained in posts, until it quickly lost it's way.

Lt. Ealing: 8CP
MS. Brennan: 7CP

~Danny[/color]