Yet Another Day (Strum)

[Cpl. Joe Claude]

Country: Nazi Germany
Area/Setting: POW Camp
Current Time: 05:45am
Weather Conditions: Cold, Dark, Rainy

The rain was coming down thick and fast, tapping at the windows, the wind battering the windows with the driving rain that seemed to never go away, thunder could be heard in the distance or maybe that was guns firing…Joe couldn’t tell.

The American-Jewish man was lying down on a hard, wooden bed in a barrack; a few other people were in there but they seemed to be sleeping, how the hell could they be asleep what with the wind and rain and the cold? Joe had a thin blanket and he was staring up at the ceiling, his face now stitched up and looking rather horrible what with the scarring, the symbol on his right cheek and the SS symbol on his forehead had been burning and throbbing for a long time. He had never felt pain as much as he had in that room with that medic, who after doing all that cutting to his face, had made the other doctors stitch his face up without any drugs to dull the pain.
He had seen the slight pain in the doctor’s eyes as they had done that, they seemed to have felt sorry for him as they poked the needle in and out of the bloody skin. But that had been days ago, Joe had been left in that hospital bed, alone for the last three days, his leg had fixed up and he had been moved to the barrack a little way off from the hospital and hadn’t seen the medic…Strumfelder since…maybe he wouldn’t see him again…

The man sat up in bed suddenly and stared around the tiny room, two men were sound asleep in their beds, or they looked asleep they may not have been. Joe swung his legs carefully over the edge of the bed, letting them hit the ground softly and sat there, staring at the wooden floor. The light was terrible in the room, there was no sun rising outside so by the light you could make out what the Jew was wearing. He wore brown trousers and a brown t-shirt, they had taken his uniform away from him the minute he had got to the barracks, and the uniform was no use as it had been coated with blood, his own blood…

Joe put his head in his hands, running one hand through his brown hair and touching the SS scar on his forehead, wincing slightly. He started to mutter something, a Jewish prayer or something, rocking slightly and then stopped. ”Fucking hell.” he said, tears coming into his eyes as he sat there, staring in a sort of trace at the floor.

[∬: Erhard Strumfelder]

The large gates opened into the compound as guard saluted Strumfelder and his three companions. Strumfelder didn’t have time or particularly want to return the salute. He moved across the mud of the prisoners compound. The snow had thawed several days ago, and turned the frozen ground into a large area of sticky, stinking mud. It clung to the men’s boots as they crossed it. With Strumfelder was his old Corporal, Claus Kortig, the Corporal who had shot the Doctor a few days before, and Strumfelder’s new Sergeant, Karl Jonsen. Jonsen was from an Einsatzgruppen unit. He openly admitted he’d killed a village full of Jews and Slavs along side a squad he was commanding. He’d apparently raped several young girls, the youngest nine, before setting them on fire. The man looked capable of far more.

Strumfelder knew who they were coming for. An old friend of his, who they could get yet more information from. It was close to six in the morning, with roll call at half past. The men were in their barracks, sleeping. They moved towards Barrack C in the darkness, making as little sound as possible.

The camp Kommandant hadn’t been too happy to find Strumfelder had shot one of his Doctors, claiming ‘he was one of my best, and my own personal physician’. Strumfelder didn’t care for the overweight lump, and as for the Doctor, he shouldn’t have challenged the SS man. If he’d kept himself to himself, as had the other, he would still be breathing. But that was life, and death.

The medic shouldn’t technically take a man for his own ends, and fearing that Kommandant would have him thrown off the base leaning what he was planning to do, Strumfelder hadn’t asked for a key to the locked barrack. He had a better way of getting in. They strode up to the wooden hut, and ascended a few steps to the oak door. The hut was about half a metre above the ground, so prisoners would be seen constructing tunnels.

Strumfelder examined the lock, and drew his new Mauser pistol. The Sergeant and Corporals readied themselves as planned. Strumfelder placed the muzzle next to the key hole, and squeezed the trigger. There was a loud bang and the grinding of metal, and then his three men burst in, and searched the quarters. The found Mr Claude fast enough. They tugged him out of his bed and pushed him in front of Strumfelder, who still had his weapon drawn. The rest of the barrack was watching intently.

“Are you coming with us, Mr Claude?”

[Cpl. Joe Claude]

Joe heard footsteps from outside, and a bullet go through the door lock, bursting it open, three men came in, one was Strumfelder, another was the Corporal who had overseen Joe’s stitching up of wounds, and the other man he didn’t recognise. The two men that were with Strumfelder tugged Joe to his feet and Joe found a gun pointing at him and the words of Strumfelder.
“Are you coming with us, Mr Claude?”

Joe looked down at the rifle, breathing heavily and fast, he was pretty dammed frightened and he could feel eyes of the other prisoners on him. He nodded slowly, ”I’m not going to say no cause you’re pointing a gun at my head.” he muttered, under his breath just loud enough for only Strumfelder to hear, his mouth started to become dry as he remembered the last meeting the two had had together, he took a sideways glance at the other two men, seeing the name of the man he didn’t know, on the uniform Karl Jonsen, he had heard about that man from the other British and Americans in the camp, the man was a madman, having killed a whole village of Jewish people, or so was said.

It made Joe’s blood rise up as he looked at this man, he had heard that the Jewish people, his people, were being killed…they were being killed in their thousands, in camps…Joe did not get it, he didn’t get why these Nazis hated the Jewish people so much, they had done nothing wrong, even as a young boy, Joe remembered being picked on and teased because of what he believed in, because he was a Jew. Jewish people were normal people, they did normal jobs, the Jews in America and Britain went around like any other person…

[☤Theodorijk Wijzemens]

The rain pounded the muddy ground with a vigour unknown to the guards standing outside the gate of the prison camp. The guards only knew that many evil things were going on behind the gates of the innocent-looking camp. They had all heard of Doktor van de Vlakte before; only rumours to be sure. He was known as Stahlherz, or steel heart, to many of the men that had seen him work. The men didn't flinch though, as the doctor's vehicle pulled up to the gate. The gate opened and the guards tried to get a look through the tinted windows as it passed through.

Doktor van de the Vlakte hadn't practise his methods of extracting information for some time, but he had been called upon by the SS to visit the prison-camp to help another SS man extract information from an American soldier. He stepped from the car and looked up into the rain. Removing his instruments from the car, e was followed by two other men to the sound of gunshots. It was probably where he needed to be. He trudged through the mud to the wooden barracks to find a broken door, broken English and German was being yelled throughout.

Doktor van de Vlakte went through the doorway to see a man he had not seen in months. The very man to whom he was going to invite for a Christmas gathering. Instead, the gathering was hosted by a Jewish American soldier, ironic to say the least. The doctor stepped in and spoke in English since it seemed to be the popular language. "Erhard Strumfelder, good to see you. I was sent by Headquarters to assist in the extraction of information from a certain Josef Claude. I would assume he is the one," he said, noticing the man with a gun pointed at him.

The doctor motioned for his men to fix bayonets and get behind the prisoner. He stepped forward, "Herr Claude. I can assure you will live under my knife if you give us all the information we ask for. My rule is: more information, less inflammation." It was a trite phrase, but it worked. He had learnt and thought up new ways to gain information from people who didn't want to tell anything. The doctor looked to Strumfelder, noticing the new shoulder boards, "Unterärtzlichführer, is their a medical facility on base? I should like to conduct the procedure there."

[∬: Erhard Strumfelder]

Strumfelder was surprised to hear the familiar voice, but didn’t turn his head straight away. He was far move interested in the American. He looked the tired man up and down, and then grinned as he listened to what he had wanted to hear. “It appears you have learnt from our last encounter.” Strumfelder was aware over a dozen pairs of eyes were starring at him, and he was enjoying the attention. “I suggest you do come quietly, as you say, and you’ll wake up less of your fellows, and of course we wouldn’t want that.” Strumfelder sneered. He let his one eye burn into the American’s, before slapping him with the face of the weapon. “Nehmen Sie diesen Juden zur Kühlvorrichtung,” he ordered. They dragged him away.

The medic now turned to his old friend and colleague. “Stören Sie nicht mit dieser uncultured Sprache. Es ist nett, Sie noch einmal zu sehen altes firend. Ich war die Bedeutung, zum Ihnen eines Briefs zu schicken.” he smiled slightly, and shook the Doctors hand. The man who had saved him yet he hadn’t seen in months. Strumfelder doubted that time had been so merciful with him, as it had been with Vlakte. “Ich habe Angst, dass ich nicht nach meinem letzten Besuch zu diesem place' zu willkommen bin; s-medizinische Anlage. Ein Doktor entschied, dass er meine Tätigkeiten anfechten wollte. Es war eine schlechte Entscheidung.”

Strumfelder watched his men drag the American away in the semi darkness. The Sun had just begun to rise. He turned and addressed the men in the barrack. “I suggest gentlemen, that you forget what just happened here, and go back to sleep. It would be very wise for you not to talk about this.” With that, Strumfelder holstered his weapon, and moved outside with Vlakte, closing the door behind.

“Jedoch hat die Kühlvorrichtung einen smal medizinischen Bereich. Es ist leere diese Nacht, außer einem immate, das ich beschäftige, wenn wir ankommen. Wir sind allein und unbeeinträchtigt. Bilden Sie diese amerikanischen Gefühlschmerz. Das Gestapo haben mich die Akten gefunden und dargestellt er, hat Verbindungen zum roten Orchester.” Strumfelder wanted to wash his hands in Slavic blood, and this American could be the ticket he was hunting for.

Translations
“Nehmen Sie diesen Juden zur Kühlvorrichtung,”
~ Take this Jew to the cooler.

“Stören Sie nicht mit dieser uncultured Sprache. Es ist nett, Sie noch einmal zu sehen altes firend. Ich war die Bedeutung, zum Ihnen eines Briefs zu schicken.”
~ Do not bother with that uncultured language. It is nice to see you once again old friend. I was meaning to send you a letter.

“Ich habe Angst, dass ich nicht nach meinem letzten Besuch zu diesem place' zu willkommen bin; s-medizinische Anlage. Ein Doktor entschied, dass er meine Tätigkeiten anfechten wollte. Es war eine schlechte Entscheidung.”
~ I am afraid I am not too welcome after my last visit to this place's medical facility. A doctor decided he wanted to challenge my actions. It was a bad decision.

“Jedoch hat die Kühlvorrichtung einen smal medizinischen Bereich. Es ist leere diese Nacht, außer einem immate, das ich beschäftige, wenn wir ankommen. Wir sind allein und unbeeinträchtigt. Bilden Sie diese amerikanischen Gefühlschmerz. Das Gestapo haben mich die Akten gefunden und dargestellt er, hat Verbindungen zum roten Orchester.”
~ However, the cooler does have a small medical area. It is empty tonight, except for one imamate who I will deal with when we arrive. We shall be alone and undisturbed. Make this American feel pain. The Gestapo have found me files, showing he has links to Red Orchestra.

[Cpl. Joe Claude]

It seemed that another man had entered the room, a Doctor with two other men who now positioned themselves behind Joe, the doctor was talking to Strumfelder and then looked over at Joe who looked over, and he didn’t say anything as Strumfelder was bearing down on him, his one eye bulging in its socket.
He felt the gun hit his face harder than he excepted, biting his lip as he felt the gun hit the mark on his cheek, making it sting.

Strumfelder suddenly turned to German, for god sake! These Germans were idiots, calling him a Jew…bastard. He felt two pairs of strong arms around his own and began to be dragged out of the hut, trying to regain his balance as he stumbled into the cold air. The bitter air was pretty cold, it got to his skin, making his skin ice cold, his teeth started to chatter as the two men led him towards another building, Die Kühlvorrichtung was inscribed on the door – The Cooler -. Oh god…he heard the echoes of the voices of the two doctors being carried on the wind. He caught a few words from what was being said, make him feel pain, the Gestapo had files, Red Orchestra.

Joe bit his lip as he was pushed through the door, the room was nearly as cold as outside, another inmate was in one of the cells, a medical table was at one end. Joe glanced over at the other man as he was pushed against the wall; his hands cuffed behind him, the two men awaiting orders. Joe turned to face them, looking at the two silent figures, their faces stone cold, it was like they were dummies, being controlled by the higher ranked people like Strumfelder and the other doctor, it was extremely sad, even the Americans weren’t like this, well Joe’s captain had been a right bastard alright, but at least he was on their side, these men were worse.

"Sie gehend zu lächeln?" he muttered, he thought that was quiet funny, the two men didn’t, getting a slap from one across the face again for his foolishness, making his head bang hard against the wall, that made him shut up.

Translations

Sie gehend zu lächeln?

"You going to smile?"

[☤Theodorijk Wijzemens]

Doktor van de Vlakte watched as Strumfelder pistol whipped the man and ordered him out. Dieedrik followed him out as he spoke. now they were in the brisk air and head to the cooler. A rather large man was standing outside it as the two SS officers arrived at the building in the drizzle that was left from the previous storms.

Dieedrik spoke to Strumfelder as he walked. "Ich sehe, der Gefangene habe Informationen der NKVD Tätigkeiten. In aller Ehrlichkeit möchte ich nicht zu dir liegen. Ich wurde hier durch das Ahnenerbe gesendet, um dich aufzupassen. Es scheint, daß der Lagerkommandant sich beschwert hat. Jedoch ich imbin Begriff, ihn zu beschäftigen. Ich fange Extraktion der Informationen vom Amerikaner an, während du um dem tschechischen Gefangenen kümmerst. Ich lese deine Akte auf den Kanadier und ich fahre auf dieser Fläche fort." Stopping before he went to the commandant. "Erhard, hoffe ich, daß du gut füehlst. Ich war im Begriff, dich zu meinem Haus in Aachen für Weihnachten einzuladen. Jetzt tue ich hier etwas, das viele deutschen Leben und viel deutsches Blut spart. Uns wütend nicht gehen lassen."

Continuing the walk, Dieedrik reached the commandant who was red in the face, as if he had just yelled. Dieedrik was sure he had been yelling at the SS NCO who had just dragged the American into the cooler. He stopped in front of the man and began the spiel, "Hauptmann! Rückkehr zu deinem Büro und einmischt nicht sich in den Angelegenheiten der SS. Wir haben sehr empfindliche Gefangene, von denen wir life-saving Informationen extrahieren und wir nicht diese Bemühung ruinieren lassen lassen dir. Gehe jetzt oder du hast jemand, das viel schlechter ist, als ich, ein Scharfrichter möglicherweise zu beschäftigen."

After leaving the man standing at the wall, the doctor walked through door and glanced at the Czech prisoner on the table. He stepped into the next room, to find Josef Claude tied to a wooden chair next to the polished steel table at the side of the room. He looked down at the man before him. "Good morning Josef, I am Doktor van de Vlakte of the Ahnenerbe-SS. I have been sent here to interrogate you. Now, Doktor Strumfelder is a masterful physician and a good interrogator. But, I assure you. I am far worse in that I use more than just pain. Now," He stepped forward and pulled off his leather glove and slapped the man across the face, "you will tell me exactly what unit you were in, what job you performed, who commanded you when, and... how many Germans you killed while in the field. you may begin now or suffer." The doctor spoke matter-of-factly. this was business and the American before him was not going to stop him.

Translations:
"Ich sehe, der Gefangene habe Informationen der KGB Tätigkeiten. In aller Ehrlichkeit möchte ich nicht zu dir liegen. Ich wurde hier durch das Ahnenerbe gesendet, um dich aufzupassen. Es scheint, daß der Lagerkommandant sich beschwert hat. Jedoch ich imbin Begriff, ihn zu beschäftigen. Ich fange Extraktion der Informationen vom Amerikaner an, während du um dem tschechischen Gefangenen kümmerst. Ich lese deine Akte auf den Kanadier und ich fahre auf dieser Fläche fort."
~I see, the prisoner has information of NKVD activities. In all honesty, I do not want to lie to you. I was sent here by the Ahnenerbe to watch you. It seems the camp commandant has complained. However, I am about to deal with him. I will begin extraction of information from the American while you take care of the Czech prisoner. I read your file in the Canadian and I will continue on that tract.

"Erhard, hoffe ich, daß du gut füehlst. Ich war im Begriff, dich zu meinem Haus in Aachen für Weihnachten einzuladen. Jetzt tue ich hier etwas, das viele deutschen Leben und viel deutsches Blut spart. Uns wütend nicht gehen lassen."
~Erhard, I hope you are well. I was going to invite you to my home in Aachen for Christmas. Now, I am here doing something that will save many German lives and much German blood. Let's not go mad.

"Hauptmann! Rückkehr zu deinem Büro und einmischt nicht sich in den Angelegenheiten der SS. Wir haben sehr empfindliche Gefangene, von denen wir life-saving Informationen extrahieren und wir nicht diese Bemühung ruinieren lassen lassen dir. Gehe jetzt oder du hast jemand, das viel schlechter ist, als ich, ein Scharfrichter möglicherweise zu beschäftigen."
~Hauptmann! Return to your office and do not meddle in the affairs of the SS. We have very delicate prisoners from which we are extracting life-saving information and we shall not let allow to you to ruin this endeavour. Go now, or you will have someone much worse to deal with than me, an executioner perhaps.

[Cpl. Joe Claude]

Joe found himself being dragged to a chair and tired to it, his hands clamped behind his back, he had seen the look on the other prisoner in the next door room, the poor man looked more tired than Joe which seemed almost impossible. The ropes were cutting slightly into his wrists, and he was staring at the steel table which was next to him, seeing how polished it was.

In came the doctor who introduced himself as Doktor van de Vlakte, mouthful of a name Joe thought to himself, he wouldn’t dare say that out loud, the doctor might get even more angry if he spoke a word about abusing his name. Joe gave a slight smirk that disappeared as he felt yet another hand being slapped across his face, forcing his head to turn suddenly in pain. ”Jesus.” Joe gasped out, his face now stung rather badly. He could see the man bearing down on him; Joe looked up, his face not showing any emotion.

”Surely you should have found out what unit I’m in, I told your best mate…the one with the one eye over there.” he nodded to the door behind him, ”What job? Well, I’m a soldier and that means I do what every other soldier does, fight baddies in this case you Germans, though I wouldn’t call you baddies as I have some German in my blood, you must have found that out already what with your files.” he could see the man’s face getting slightly more angry as he spoke so he continued, he just wanted to say a few words, that was it, ”Also about the commanding thing, I also told Strumfelder that as well, Aiden Jacka is his name, oh and I jump out of planes.” Joe said, flashing a smile which faded fast. Joe didn’t mean to be cheeky, it was in his blood, it was in his manner, and the German doctor needed some fun in his life cause he didn’t seem to have any at the moment.

[☤Theodorijk Wijzemens]

Doktor van de Vlakte was not pleased. However, he would use some fear as well as another humiliating slap to the face. He did so, this time to the other side of the man's face before he continued, "Josef, I am a reasonable man. Whether I know anything about you or not is not your business; you will tell me whatever I ask for. Now, a slap to the face is only the beginning here. If you don't tell me what unit you are from, what specific job you played as a soldier, who commanded you when and where, and how many of our men you killed, I will get frustrated. If I get frustrated, this entire time will become far more unpleasant for you. I have turned many men into asexual heaps in a matter of minutes. I assure you, you don't want to be one of them."

He pulled up a chair and placed it about 1.5 metres away from the other man before he looked directly at him with his cold eyes and opened his medical bag slowly, before he pulled out a pad and a pen. He grinned slightly before speaking again, "Josef, you have your chance now to tell me. Do it now, or I'll make you tell me." He put emphasis on the word make to prove his point. He was far more calculated in this endeavour than many a Gestapo interrogator. He scratched out his arm under the heavy black wool coat and took off his glove on the left hand before he propped up his right leg on the left knee and held the pad down, waiting for the man to speak.

Dieedrik already knew all the information he had asked for, but he was waiting for something else to unexpectedly spill from the man's mouth as he gave the information, hopefully, for the American's sake. The doctor was ready as the blacked out clock on the wall clicked in the silence, sending a torturous sound about the room every second. It was like the dripping water in an echo chamber. It drove people mad.

[∬: Erhard Strumfelder]

In one of the first instances Strumfelder had ever heard Vlakte snap, he watched as he tore into the camp Kommandant. The man must be close to breaking point with everything which was occurring in his own camp, out of his control. Strumfelder had no sympathy though, and was angered by the reason Vlakte had arrived. This Hauptmann may not like him, but having him observed was far beyond reasonable. He swore under his breath as he entered the cooler, and watched as Vlakte went about his work. He would leave the man for a moment while he attended to the overweight Hauptmann. He turned to Kortig, who was standing, rather relaxed by the American’s cell door, but noticed the Czech inside the other. Strumfelder wanted them alone.

The Medic entered the Czech’s cell, to find him lying on a table, ready for pain. Strumfelder would have leapt at the idea of hurting a Slav, but there were better things to be at. He removed his pistol and planted a bullet in the Czechs head. The force threw the Czech from the top. The echo had bounced around in the concrete cell, and no doubt the rest of the cooler had heard, but Strumfelder did not care. He turned outside and looked to Kortig.

“Dieses Kommandant wird ein Problem. Finden Sie seinen Namen und sein Haus. Einsteigen in Stadt und nehmen sechs Männer von unserem Hotel. Gehen Sie zu seinem Haus und töten Sie jedes, das dort ist, ausgenommen seine Frau. Nehmen Sie hier und lassen Sie jeden Mann sie rauben. Töten Sie sie dann. Ich schlage vor, dass Sie in einigen Kondomen investieren.” Strumfelder grinned, and patted the man on the shoulder, before heading towards Vlakte’s playground. This would be very interesting to watch.

Kortig went about his work and exited the concrete building, while Strumfelder and his other two men enter the dark cell. There Vlakte sat, receiving the same smart answers which Strumfelder had a few days before. “Sie erhalten viel nicht aus ihm heraus unter Verwendung einer angemessenen Annäherung. Die Schmerz sind dieser ganzer jüdische bastard verstehen.” He turned and looked at Jonsen, who was now slipping a brass knuckle duster over his right hand, his gleaming eyes fixed on the gleaming metal…

Translations:
“Dieses Kommandant wird ein Problem. Finden Sie seinen Namen und sein Haus. Einsteigen in Stadt und nehmen sechs Männer von unserem Hotel. Gehen Sie zu seinem Haus und töten Sie jedes, das dort ist, ausgenommen seine Frau. Nehmen Sie hier und lassen Sie jeden Mann sie rauben. Töten Sie sie dann. Ich schlage vor, dass Sie in einigen Kondomen investieren.”
~ That Kommandant is becoming a problem. Find his name, and his home. The go into town and take six men from our hotel. Go to his home and kill anybody who is there, except his wife. Take here, and have each man rape her. Then kill her. I suggest you invest in some condoms.

“Sie erhalten viel nicht aus ihm heraus unter Verwendung einer angemessenen Annäherung. Die Schmerz sind dieser ganzer jüdische bastard verstehen.”
~ You will not get much out of him using a reasonable approach. Pain is all this Jewish bastard understands.

[Cpl. Joe Claude]

Joe could tell that the doctor wasn’t happy at what he had got for an answer. The man slapped him again, this time on the other side of his face, continuing his speaking. ”Yeah, I wouldn’t want that.” Joe spat in answer to what Vlakte said about becoming an asexual heap in a matter of minutes. He didn’t like the sound of that.
Out came the pen, out came the pencil, Joe was getting déjà vu here, had he been in this situation before? Yes, a few days ago with Strumfelder and he had been the one to come off worst what with the scars on his face that would never go away ever, they would stay as a mark of what had happened here for the rest of his life.

The man was now rather close to Joe, Joe didn’t look at the evil man’s eyes, they were cold and he stiffened suddenly as the medical bag opened, flashes of bad memories with Strumfelder came flooding back, he remembered the pain that he had gone through with that man, the pain had been the worst that he had ever felt in his life.
The clock on the wall kept ticking, ticking on and on in the silence. Joe glanced around as far as his head could turn, but he could see no clock, this thing was going to drive him crazy, he looked back over at the doctor who was staring at him. Joe thought he heard a gun shot rattle and echo around the cooler, it came from the next door room and Joe gave a jump.
Then Strumfelder entered the room, with two other men, Strumfelder said something in German, and Joe shuddered, Jewish bastard eh? ”You know, it’s no point talking in German, Strumfelder, because I can understand it.” he muttered quietly, catching the gleam of metal in the corner of his eye.

”Unit? 101st Airborne, Easy Company. Job? As I said, fighting, but if you mean what sort of part of the fighting I was in, I’m an engineer, love mechanical stuff me.” he said, smirking slightly, ”No one commanded me when you lot came and abducted me, I was on patrol, and I just told you who my commander is you seem to have short term memory loss Vlakte? That’s your name isn’t it? And I haven’t killed any of your lot yet.” Joe said, he thought he was being sensible and funny, as was said in the Allies base, Germans didn’t seem to have any humour.

[☤Theodorijk Wijzemens]

The doctor was not amused. The man was being cheeky and not giving enough information. Quickly before anything happened that he didn't want, he turned his head quickly to Strumfelder's assistant. "Nicht halte die weg. Ich habe einen besseren Plan. Gesetzt ihm auf die Tabelle und verriegele ihn unten," he said in an orderly fashion before he faced the American again and spoke in his cold tone, "Josef, I warned you that you had the moment. Now, I'm frustrated. You will suffer much pain if you do not tell me what I ask for in an orderly fashion."

The doctor stood up from his seat and set his bag on the chair as he pulled out a set of scalpels, needles, syringes, and left many of the worse instruments in the bag. He took out a vial of Dantrolene and stuck the needle of one of his syringes in through the top and extracted the correct amount. He quickly came to the man on the table after the three men had tied him down and he jammed the needle into the man's arm and emptied the syringe before he set down on the working table.

He looked down into the man's face now, "Josef, I understand that you know what Dantrolene is, so I will continue. If you do not give me the information I am asking for, Strumfelder will begin removing you toenails and fingernails. If you still do not give me enough information, he will slice a the flesh off the ends of them. From there we will begin an acid enema. It is advisable that you give me everything I ask for. However, before I ask you any questions, we will remove you toenails.Then you will answer questions."

Doktor van de Vlakte knew very well that toes and fingers had numerous nerves that would supply much pain. He looked to Strumfelder and spoke in controlled German to the men and to Strumfelder. "Morgenman, Steinalt -- entferne seine Schuhe. Strumfelder, gebe ich dir die Ehre der bildenden Schmerz, während ich ihm die Fragen stelle. Wende an, was Methoden, die du glaubst, notwendig sei, um seine Zehennägel zu entfernen." He smiled at the junior medical officer before him as he retrieved his pad and pen, waiting for Strumfelder to take care of business.

Translations:
"Nicht halte die weg. Ich habe einen besseren Plan. Gesetzt ihm auf die Tabelle und verriegele ihn unten,"
~No, keep those away. I have a better plan. Put him on the table and latch him down.

"Morgenman, Steinalt -- entferne seine Schuhe. Strumfelder, gebe ich dir die Ehre der bildenden Schmerz, während ich ihm die Fragen stelle. Wende an, was Methoden, die du glaubst, notwendig sei, um seine Zehennägel zu entfernen."
~Morgenman, Steinalt -- remove his shoes. Strumfelder, I shall give you the honour of the pain making while I ask him the questions. Use whatever methods you believe are necessary to remove his toenails.

[∬: Erhard Strumfelder]

OOC: Believe it or not, I don’t know too much about toenail extraction, so this is mostly guesswork. I hope I’m close to the truth.

Jonsen’s boy like smile vanished as Vlakte destroyed his dream, and he looked at the Doctor as if he was giving him a personal challenge. Strumfelder reached his arm out to stop the man before he made a mess of Vlakte’s face.

The American was being his old self, and Strumfedler wasn’t in the mood “I speak the language of dogs, only to dogs.” he said, his voice a whisper. Two men moved him upon the Doctors orders, and threw him onto a waiting table, where they strapped him down. Strumfelder wished they would still let him retain the ability to walk, but it was more of an annoyance to the American than himself.

Vlakte was giving him a choice, although he doubted there were many ways to remove toenails. He would brake each of the toes first, which would mean it should be easier to removed the nails. He could then use pliers to slowly remove each on, maybe dislocating the toes at the same time? This would be most enjoyable. The two men removed the American’s shoes and socks, before Strumfelder removed his cap and placed it onto a small and blood stained wooden shelf fixed into the grey wall. Straightening his eye patch, he opened his bag and withdrew a pair of forceps They had a long head, and Strumfelder could only believe they had been made to inflict pain. He placed them down and removed a pair of surgical gloves, and slipped his hands into them, pulling the material tight.

He stepped over to the American, smiling, as everybody in the room watched, except the American who would be enjoying the lovely view offered by the ceiling. Strumfelder opened the instrument and placed it around the base of the American’s right big toe. He tightened the grip until the inside faces were biting into the skin, and then turned them ninety degrees anticlockwise. With a crack the bone broke, and the limp lump of flesh dangled back wards.

Strumfelder now returned to his bag, and removed another pair, this one with a much more precise and sharp head. He used the older, heavier pliers to hold the toe in place, before opening the small pair and spearing one tong into the soft flesh under the nail itself. Blood poured out. Strumfelder them clamped them shut and slowly extracted the nail. It felt like removing ones leg from thick mud; the flesh held onto the nail as it slowly crept out. Finally it came free, the lower half covered in red blood. “This is why you corporate with us, Josef.” Strumfelder smirked.

[Cpl. Joe Claude]

Joe didn’t really think that the Germans would do anything to him, but he was wrong, completely wrong as he felt himself be lifted up and on to the table, strapped down and the same sensation as the syringe was put into his arm, Vlakte was talking above him, Joe’s face was now held no laughter or humour anymore, it held fear. He felt his muscles starting to seize up and could feel his shoes and socks being removed.

”You bastards.” he spat out; they were going to remove his toenails! A shiver went down his spine as he thought of the pain and sure enough the pain was about to come. He saw Strumfelder’s smile and glared in hatred at him as he looked up at the ceiling, feeling the clamp that was put on his toe, gritting his teeth, he felt a snap and pain shot up his leg, he let out a piecing yell of pain, his eyes filling with tears, Strumfelder was doing it, he was removing his toenails! The pain was the worst he had ever felt, he could feel the toenail being extracted from the skin.

The toenail then came free and the pain was so great that Joe let out yells and straggled, choking and crying, ”Please…” he said, shutting his eyes to try and dull the pain but it wasn’t working, ”I’ll tell you everything, I’ll tell you what ever you want to know…please, j-just no more pain.” he sobbed, he had thought he had had the worst pain that any one could have but no, this was far worst.

”Lt. Aiden Jacka, commander, I am in 101st Airborne, Easy Company, we had just captured a little French town when you took me, er…what else do you want to know!!” he gasped, ”Jesus.” he said as more pain began to shoot up his body.

[☤Theodorijk Wijzemens]

The man screamed and yelled. It was expected, the doctor would not punish him for the names. He was not here to punish or torture, he was there to gain information; torture was simply the way he got the information. He knew if he went too far with the pain, he would not gain what he wanted. If he showed a glimpse of mercy, he would get what he wanted. Pain was certainly a very good motivator. He spoke up in German as Strumfelder completed the third toe. "Herr strumfelder, bitte stoppen. Ich glaube, er ist bereit zu sprechen. Halten Sie Ihre Instrumente aber bereit."

He looked down at the man and smiled, "I'm glad you have come to your senses, Josef. I know very well what your unit is. You are an engineer and you were captured in France. Good. Now, if you answer my questions, Herr Strumfelder will stop his work on your foot and I will dull the pain when we have finished the session." Dieedrik knew very well that punishment was not the only way to get information. A prisoner wants the pain to stop and he'll give information. A prisoner wants to stop the pain caused from before, and he'll tell you everything.

The doctor started writing in Greek on his pad. He wrote in Greek so that most people would not be able to read his notes if they were captured. He knew that they would simply need to get a specialist, but it bought time should they be captured again.

Κρατούμενος ανταποκρίνεται καλά να πόνο, ιδιαίτερα όταν προσφέρεται μια διέξοδο. Μέλος της 101 πρώτο αερόφερτου, E εταιρεία, μηχανικός διοικητής Aiden Jacka της ειδικής αεροπορικής υπηρεσίας.

Doktor van de Vlakte started the questioning once the man pleaded for relief. "Josef, tell me exactly where the SAS Headquarters is located. I want to know your codename for the SAS and what special orders you were given before you were captured. If you lie to me, I will find out and the results will be far worse than the removal of your toenails. Give me the information and be civil with your tongue and you will have a painkiller when we are done as well as proper medical treatment. Tell me everything I want to know and you will never see me again." things were coming out as they should. Show some pity, guarantee some relief, and all sorts of things happen.

Translations:
"Herr strumfelder, bitte stoppen. Ich glaube, er ist bereit zu sprechen. Halten Sie Ihre Instrumente aber bereit."
~Herr Strumfelder, please stop. I believe he is willing to talk. Keep your instruments ready though.

Κρατούμενος ανταποκρίνεται καλά να πόνο, ιδιαίτερα όταν προσφέρεται μια διέξοδο. Μέλος της 101 πρώτο αερόφερτου, E εταιρεία, μηχανικός διοικητής Aiden Jacka της ειδικής αεροπορικής υπηρεσίας.
~Prisoner responds well to pain, especially when offered a way out.
Member of the 101st Airborne, E Company, Engineer
Commander Aiden Jacka of the Special Air Service.