It Won't Be Long [Lukas]

[∬Hartwig Kriegheld]

A cold winterly light filtered through the frozen glass windows through the office of Rafael Wolfram. Hauptsturmführer Kriegheld stood int he cold room. The superior officer had been suddenly called to Berlin for an unknown reason and an unknown return date. Hartwig sighed as he looked across the beautiful desk that stood in the office. The office was solemn, as if a single noise would shatter it.

The captain walked to the wall and switched on the electric lights and moved to the radiator against the wall before coming to the desk and gingerly sitting behind it in the cold, hard leather chair behind it. He breathed slightly as he looked across the hard desk that fogged up as he breathed across it. He pulled out the drawer int he desk and found the official stamp with the Wolfsangel and the label of the 2nd SS. There were some transfer orders he had to take care of.

He pulled out the first one, Nazario Battista, an officer the Hartwig had met while in camp. He was honestly glad to be rid of the self-centred Italian officer. Finally, he and Schneider would be apart from one another. He signed the document with his swirling script and stamped it in red ink with the 2nd SS stamp, making the document official. He didn't care where the officer went, he only cared that the man was gone.

A slight knock on the door informed the Acting Commander that someone was at the door. the door opened and one of the guards peaked in with a cup of coffee. He walked silently and quickly to the desk, setting it down in front of the stern man behind the desk. He left the room just as quickly with a salute, back to his post. Hartwig took a drink of the hot coffee before moving back to the stack of documents on the desk.

[sturmgeshutze]

The weather was below freezing and Lukas could see his breath clearly, the trees were half gone from the winter season to come and the sky was bright blue with the morning sun peaking over the tops of the mountains. He was sitting with two other soldiers that were to report to the Hauptsturmfuhrer at the 2nd SS HQ. The Opel truck they travelled in was cramped, but the rumbling engine and the sound of crumpling gravel under the wheels made Lukas think of the adventures to come. He wasn’t nervous at all, in fact, he was going to try and make his best impression.

It was only weeks after his training in Düsseldorf, when he was assigned the rank of SS-Rottenführer and was given his Karabiner 98k Rifle. He pulled out a finely rolled cigarette, and put it to his lips. He lit it and puffed a breath of smoke, as he took off his helmet and scratched his forehead. Lukas inspected his rifle some more; it was fresh from the factory, or so it seemed. The rifle he was given seemed flawless; no scratches, marks, it was brand new. He did notice a small dirt clot and he took out a small white cloth from his left breast pocket and wiped it off.

“Wenn Sie diese Pistole mehr, sein Gehen polieren, direkt durch zu halten.”

The quiet private, sitting in the back of the truck had spoken up about Lukas’ habit. Lukas smiled back, with the cigarette still in his mouth, and put his cloth back in his breast pocket. It wasn’t soon until they reached the outskirts of the base. The truck had stopped moving and Lukas could hear the guards speaking to the driver.

“Papiere bitte... Wie ist Ihr Geschäft hier Leutnant?”

The driver told the guard that they were new additions to the 2nd SS, another guard trailed the outside of the truck and poked his head into the back, he used his flashlight to identify each man. He turned off the flashlight and reported back the Leutnant. The truck jerked into acceleration and they watched the men slowly disappear as the driver turned the bend.

The truck soon arrived at the base, they passed several tanks parked in unison along a garage near the headquarters. Lukas witnessed several men watching the truck as it pulled into park in front of the Headquarters. Lukas picked up his rifle and jumped out the back, and threw the cigarette butt from his lips to the ground. He put it out with his boot, exhaled the smoke and proceeded into the Bavarian town hall which had served as the Field Headquarters for the SS division.

As he entered the lobby, he was welcomed by the scent of cleanliness and cigarette smoke. The other two were taken to a briefing room as Lukas was the first to arrive at the Hauptstürmfuhrer’s office. Lukas entered the office and noticed the man’s uniform. Prestigious enough, Lukas belted out “Heil” and raised his right hand.

-Translations-
Wenn Sie diese Pistole mehr, sein Gehen polieren, direkt durch zu halten.
If you polish that gun anymore, its going to wear right through.

Papiere bitte... Wie ist Ihr Geschäft hier Leutnant?
Papers please... What is your business here Leutnant?

EDIT: Two other soldiers from the truck, not three.

[∬Hartwig Kriegheld]

The cold silence was interrupted by the opening door. Haupsturmführer Kriegheld looked up from the desk to see another another soldier standing with his hand in a salute. Standing up, Kriegheld gave a short 'Heil' and raised his hand slightly. He looked the man up and down before stepping forward to be caught with the smell of tobacco smoke that was wreaking of the man.

Hartwig sneered as he smelled the man's breath. "Dein Atem stinkt nach Zigaretten. Du verstehst, daß unser Führer nach dieser ekelhaften Gewohnheit die Stirn runzelt." He quickly turned around and walked back to the desk and spoke to the man behind him as he went there, "Gekommen, was ist es du brauchst von mir?"

He quickly sat down behind the desk again and signed the final document, transferring Adolphus Hofmann from the unit. He did with a cold efficiency, calling in the man standing outside. Schütze Klaufer! Hole diese Dokumente zum vorderen Schreibtisch und habe sie geschickt den Korps-Hauptsitzen." The man walked in, picked the documents up and quickly left the office, heading down the corridor to the military postal service.

Looking back up at the soldier who was still standing in the office, Haupsturmführer Kriegheld spoke a little more quickly and loudly, "Rottenführer, was du mich benötigen zu tun. Ich habe erst vor kurzem Befehl der Abteilung genommen und ich habe viel Arbeit, zum zu beachten." He was being snappier than usual, but the new stress was really getting to him.

Translations:
"Gekommen, was ist es du brauchst von mir?"
~Your breath stinks of cigarettes. You understand that our Führer frowns upon that disgusting habit.

Schütze Klaufer! Hole diese Dokumente zum vorderen Schreibtisch und habe sie geschickt den Korps-Hauptsitzen."
~Schütze Klaufer! Take these documents to the front desk and have them sent to the Corp HQ.

"Rottenführer, was du mich benötigen zu tun. Ich habe erst vor kurzem Befehl der Abteilung genommen und ich habe viel Arbeit, zum zu beachten."
~Rottenführer, what do you need me to do. I have only recently taken command of the division and I have much work to attend to.

[∬: Erhard Strumfelder]

OOC: Don’t want to seem harsh to the new lad, and you seem to have a bloody good writing skill, but everybody needs a nemesis....

The darkness was slowly creeping in, as the cold weather closed. There was a light mist, which was obscuring view and soaking anything that was in the open for any great length of time. Strumfelder however did not want to get drenched on his short trip from a local motel for low-ranking officers to the divisions new HQ, so had his chauffer (a new perk for being an officer), drive him there. The small Mercedes-Benz 130 was a nice vehicle at times, but the medic cared little for motor vehicles, or any vehicles at all come to think of it.

The car pulled up outside the beautiful headquarters, some of the windows lit up, others darkened. A mud splattered Opel truck was in front of them, pumping out filthy fumes into the air. Strumfelder shook his head in disgust, as the door was opened by a Feldgendarm policeman. The man saluted as Strumfelder stepped out onto the wet pavement. The medic nodded, but did not return the salute; the man was unshaven.

He entered through the large double doors of the hall, which were of course opened for him. A weighty collar did have its advantages. He needed to see the new division commander, who he had ironically not met yet. Wolfram had disappeared of the face of the earth; Strumfelder wondered if the loss of his son had proven too harder blow for the man. He knew that the office would now be occupied by a Captain ‘Kriegheld’. A rather interesting name indeed.

He stepped passed a flustered Private carrying files out of Wolfram’s old office. This brought back odd memories. He wondered if the Captain had discovered Wolfram’s private stash of liquor. He entered the room to see a young thirty-something year old shuffling papers behind the desk, a Hauptsturmführer’s badge displaying his rank. The man bore some scars of combat, a slight link between himself and Strumfelder. Strumfelder’s scars would never fade, the burns of that fateful engine oil that destroyed both his and Wolfrick’s life. And his eye would obviously never re-grow. Strumfelder scratched at the patch over it.

By the large desk on the other side was what looked like a Corporal, a rather new one judging by the condition of his equipment. He had the slight smell of tobacco about him, maybe trying to relax about meeting his new commander?

Strumfelder saluted the man who had allowed him entered the exclusive officer group, then quickly checked the Corporal up and down, before seeing the ridiculous state of the rifle. In one sharp move he ripped it from the soldiers grasp and looked over the barrel. It was polished beyond belief. “ Tun Sie Sie, eine Sache über fieldcraft nicht zu wissen oder tat es gehen gerade in ein Ohr und heraus in das andere bei Ihrem Panzerschule?! Ein kleiner Lichtstrahl Schläge, denen und der gesamte Bereich weiß, wo Sie sind. Poliergewehre gehören zu Polieraufladungen; auf Parade! Nie nie mit Felduniform! Sie sind eine Schande!” Strumfelder drew breath, pulled back on the bolt of the weapon and completely detached it with his leather gloves. He tucked it away in his pocket, and pushed it into the Corporal’s chest.

Translations

“ Tun Sie Sie, eine Sache über fieldcraft nicht zu wissen oder tat es gehen gerade in ein Ohr und heraus in das andere bei Ihrem Panzerschule?! Ein kleiner Lichtstrahl Schläge, denen und der gesamte Bereich weiß, wo Sie sind. Poliergewehre gehören zu Polieraufladungen; auf Parade! Nie nie mit Felduniform! Sie sind eine Schande!”
~ Do you not know a thing about fieldcraft, or did it just go in one ear and out the other at your Panzerschule?! One tiny beam of light hits that and the entire area will know where you are. Polished rifles go with polished boots; on parade! Never, never, with field uniform! You are a disgrace!

[sturmgeshutze]

OOC: Kriegheld, you can finish the conversation if you wish.

Lukas was shocked at the Unterärtzlichführer’s response, but the gun was in great condition. It was very clean, ridiculously clean, like it had never witnessed battle. It was treated like a trophy rather than an instrument of war. After having the rifle shoved into his chest, the officer walked away. He seemed like an important man of doing such a thing. Lukas thought.

“... Der Mann muss nicht darüber wissen, wie wichtig es sich für ein Gewehr sorgen soll. Und wenn es eingeklemmt krieg? Und wenn der Bolzen verrostete und er durchstochen wurde?...”

But it was natural in a military to follow orders and listen to the advice of a superior officer, even if the soldier thought otherwise. Lukas shook his head, looked to the ground and slung his rifle back on his shoulder. The Hauptstürmfuhrer got the corporal’s attention. Lukas looked at the man’s face; he thought the man looked to young to handle such an important role. But he was misunderstood; it had seemed that none of the stress had gotten to him. He was still in charge and his duties were clear enough.

“Hier sind Ihr Papier unteroffizier, unterzeichnen hier.. und hier. Kann ich Ihr sehen feldbuch?”

Lukas pulled his Feldbuch out of his back pocket, where he handed it to the Hauptstürmfuhrer. Kriegheld opened the small book to find a portrait of Lukas, in a sepia-toned color. With it, he read that Lukas trained with the Shutzstaffel at Düsseldorf, and he had received the rank of SS-Rottenführer. Folded behind a paperclip, faced down he found a picture of a beautiful blonde woman, who smiled elegantly. Kriegheld looked back up at Lukas and grinned.

“Freundin, die auf Sie zurück nachhause wartet? Sie ist schön.”

Lukas replied, “Danke Herr Hauptstürmfuhrer. Haben Sie ein Mädchen Ihres eigenen zuhause?”

-Translation-

Danke Herr Hauptstürmfuhrer. Haben Sie ein Mädchen Ihres eigenen zuhause?
Thank you sir. Do you have a girl of your own at home?

“... Der Mann muss nicht darüber wissen, wie wichtig es sich für ein Gewehr sorgen soll. Und wenn es eingeklemmt krieg? Und wenn der Bolzen verrostete und er durchstochen wurde?...”
The man must not know how important it is to keep your gun clean during a war? What if it jams and rusts up?

“Hier sind Ihr Papier unteroffizier, unterzeichnen hier.. und hier. Kann ich Ihr sehen feldbuch?”
Here are your papers corporal, sign here.. and here. Can I see your Feldbuch?
“Freundin, die auf Sie zurück nachhause wartet? Sie ist schön.”
Girlfriend waiting for you back home? She's beautiful.

[∬Hartwig Kriegheld]

OOC: Just so you know, you can't write what I'm saying. It's called god-modding. Anyway, we'll go as if I asked for your feldbuch and I ignored the photo of your lady-friend.

The soft feldbuch was familiar to Kriegheld. Many a book bore his signature due to some recent transfers. Quietly, Kriegheld picked up the fountain pen at the desk and signed the transfer sectoins of the book and looked back to the first page. A picture of the man before him was securely attached. Loosely caught in the crease between the page and the cover was a photograph of a beautiful young woman. Kriegheld caught himself before smiling. He honestly hoped this man was smart enough not to get killed. He could not fathom sending another body home to a lady like her.

Swiftly, he handed the book back and walked from behind the desk to stand between Strumfelder and Ehrlichmann. "Danke, Unterärtzlichführer, für die Hilfe. Wie bist du gewesen? Du scheinst zweifellos, in einer sauren Stimmung zu sein. Möglicherweise sollst du einen hohen Colonic nehmen und unten für eine Weile liegen." Grinning as he said it, the Hauptsturmführer walked across the room. For some reason he was in a better mood than he had just been in.

He turned back to Strumfelder before anyone could move much and began speaking again. "Unterärtzlichführer Strumfelder, nehme ich dich Nocken mit Geschäft an. Wie kann ich hilfreich zu dir sein?" He paced back to the desk and looked directly into the cold eyes of Erhard Strumfelder, a man he truly admired, though he never admitted it.

Translations:
"Danke, Unterärtzlichführer, für die Hilfe. Wie bist du gewesen? Du scheinst zweifellos, in einer sauren Stimmung zu sein. Möglicherweise sollst du einen hohen Colonic nehmen und unten für eine Weile liegen."
~Thank you, Unterärtzlichführer, for the help. How have you been? You certainly seem to be in a sour mood. Perhaps you ought to take a high colonic and lie down for a while.

"Unterärtzlichführer Strumfelder, nehme ich dich Nocken mit Geschäft an. Wie kann ich hilfreich zu dir sein?"
~Unterärtzlichführer Strumfelder, I assume you cam with business. How may I be of help to you?

[∬: Erhard Strumfelder]

OOC: Sorry, its short, but there’s not too much to write about.

Strumfelder didn’t feel in the mood for jokes. He barely smiled these day, let alone laughed. He gave a hard stare to the Hauptstrumführer, letting his one eye ball piece into the other man’s two. Strumfelder wasn’t angry though. Anger leads to hatred, hatred leads misjudgement, misjudgement leads to death. It was a very simple principle on which Strumfelder now based his life.

“Ich habe etwas von Interesse erworben. Beträchtliches Interesse.” He threw down a battered and thick file, containing several reports on one American. Strumfelder then produced a second from inside his rain jacket and tossed that down two. It was file he had put together himself. It was unofficial, containing photographs and notes of both British and American commando activities. There were also notes on a Canadian, information he had retrieved via the end of a scalpel.

“Ich denke, dass Sie etwas von diesem durchlaufen wünschen konnten. Ich habe fehlende Aufträge einer Gestapo Maßeinheit, und sie sind mitten in der englischen Landschaft. Ich benötige Ermächtigung, nach diesem Kanadier zu gehen.” Strumfelder eyed the Captain as he reacted to the files. So this was his second in command. An interesting man it appeared. And here was a new Corporal. Strumfelder watched him too. So if this was what they were sending us, they was in trouble. How could they fight a war with soldiers he seemed to want to get themselves killed?

Having Gestapo in British territory was a concept which hadn’t really been excepted by front lines units, but Reich intelligence had lost many men at the beginning of the war, and could barely spare the men. When it came to the Gestapo, they were use to going undercover, and Strumfelder saw it s just a step up. A rather large step, but just one step none the less.

He sighed, and looked Wolfram’s old office up and down. This new commander may be there permanent soon. There had been little word from the Major, a Strumfelder didn’t realise he’d miss the man up until now. They were comrades in hardship, and that united feeling was important at Christmas, when they were both feeling the pain. But this young man offered little as a commander. He was overly power hungry from what Strumfelder had heard, and although he bore a medal, it was for bravery. Bravery. Bravery because he had got himself into a tight situation and had to fight his way out. Strumfelder wouldn’t have got himself into the situation in the first place.


Translations

“Ich habe etwas von Interesse erworben. Beträchtliches Interesse.”
~ I have acquired something of interest. Considerable interest.

“Ich denke, dass Sie etwas von diesem durchlaufen wünschen konnten. Ich habe fehlende Aufträge einer Gestapo Maßeinheit, und sie sind mitten in der englischen Landschaft. Ich benötige Ermächtigung, nach diesem Kanadier zu gehen.”

[∬Hartwig Kriegheld]

Strumfelder tossed two files to the commander's desk. Kriegheld looked over to the corporal nearby, "Verlaß, Rottenführer. Das Unterärtzlichführer und ich benötigen Privatleben." As the man left, the Hauptsturmführer picked up the file and looked at the photograph. He read through the file; he was an SAS officer. This man needed to die, he had already caused the 2nd SS many problems.

He looked up to Strumfelder. "Unterärtzlichführer, weiß ich, daß du einige Zeit in England verbrachtest. Es scheint, daß du die Hauptsitze des Mannes gefunden hast. Ich weiß von einem Piloten, der dich über Schottland fallenlassen kann. Ich kann mit jemand an den Gestapo Hauptsitzen in Verbindung treten, die für Transport und eine britische Waffe für deinen Gebrauch ordnen können. Ich nehme an, der ist, was du hergekommen bist, mich zu fragen." The man was certainly smart and Hartwig was happy that he had chosen him for a promotion; the man deserved it.

He stepped around the desk and looked to the man. "Die 2. SS haben einen Piloten sehr bald. Du kannst einen anderen Mann holen, wenn du magst. Fritjof Kjeldsen berichtet dich morgen und er stellt dich mit dem Zahnrad zur Verfügung, das für einen Sprung benötigt wird. Ich würde jedoch bitten daß du Aiden Jacka zurück für das Ausfragen holst." Finally, the vexing raids would be ended. Kriegheld smiled as he looked to Strumfelder for confirmation.

Translations:
"Verlaß, Rottenführer. Das Unterärtzlichführer und ich benötigen Privatleben."
~Leave, Rottenführer. The Unterärtzlichführer and I need privacy.

"Unterärtzlichführer, weiß ich, daß du einige Zeit in England verbrachtest. Es scheint, daß du die Hauptsitze des Mannes gefunden hast. Ich weiß von einem Piloten, der dich über Schottland fallenlassen kann. Ich kann mit jemand an den Gestapo Hauptsitzen in Verbindung treten, die für Transport und eine britische Waffe für deinen Gebrauch ordnen können. Ich nehme an, der ist, was du hergekommen bist, mich zu fragen."
~Unterärtzlichführer, I know you spent some time in England. It seems you have found the man's headquarters. I know of a pilot who can drop you over Scotland. I can contact someone at the Gestapo headquarters who can arrange for transportation and a British weapon for your use. I assume that is what you have come here to ask me.

"Die 2. SS haben einen Piloten sehr bald. Du kannst einen anderen Mann holen, wenn du magst. Fritjof Kjeldsen berichtet dich morgen und er stellt dich mit dem Zahnrad zur Verfügung, das für einen Sprung benötigt wird. Ich würde jedoch bitten daß du Aiden Jacka zurück für das Ausfragen holst."
~The 2nd SS will have a pilot very soon. You may bring another man if you like. Fritjof Kjeldsen will report to you tomorrow and he will supply you with the gear needed for a jump. I would ask, however, that you bring Aiden Jacka back for questioning.

[∬: Erhard Strumfelder]

Would you mind if I had this thread closed Doc? I can’t see it really going anywhere and it’s become rather dry. Maybe another thread?

[Daniel Brennan]

Moderation Post

The following CP has been issued;

Corporal Ehrlichmann: A couple of long posts, 3CP

Medic Strumfelder: A couple of long posts again, 4CP.

Captain Kriegheld: Double the posts of the other two, but a few were very short. 5CP.

~Dan