A Shattered Pane (Revien)

[∬: Erhard Strumfelder]

Country: Occupied Czechoslovakia
Area/Setting: Countryside, approching villiage

Current Time: 10:35 AM
Weather Conditions: Sunny, a few outcrops of clouds.

OOC: This thread was made for me and Marlon Revien, so can no one else please enter it. Danke.

The short convoy of Opal trucks poured across the Czechoslovakian border, and stormed along the main road, heading for Prachatice. Strumfelder sat in the front of the second truck, his newly appointed Rottenführer Claus Kortig driving the beast of a vehicle with remarkable skill. The man had his four cigarette between his lips; did the man ever stop smoking?! Strumfelder had his rifle sitting on the seat next to him, which he didn’t doubt would be used soon. They had to kill thirty Czechs, in front of more than two hundred, for the actions at Munich ten days ago. It had originally been the action of the Kripo, but Strumfelder had seized the opportunity and turned it into an SS operation. He wanted revenge, and he guessed so did his CO, but the man wasn’t really in any shape to go and execute a band of villagers; he was still finding his feelings about the loss of his son. Strumfelder was even having a hard time over the affair and he barely knew Wolfrick.

The medic looked down at a brown envelope on the dashboard. He had been given it less than five minutes ago as the crossed the border. It was a telegram which had been sent ahead for him; somebody knew where he was. His subordinate glanced at him as he reached for it, not saying anything. Strumfelder turned it over in his gloved hands, and saw there was a wax seal, which looked like it had been done half-heartedly. Lazy bureaucrats. The medic broke it, and lifted the letter out, before unfolding it. He didn’t have a clue what it would be about. After all he was one in a million, and he rarely received messages like this; that was for officers. The letter was clean cut. His wife had gone into labour and had given birth to a baby boy. But there was a sting in the tail. It had been a still birth. Strumfelder read on, slowly, shocked. But the news got worse. His wife had lost a lot of blood....too much blood. She had died herself, two hours later.

He read it again, and again, as if it would yield a different answer, but of course it didn’t. But what made it so much worse, was it was dated from three days ago. His wife had been dead for three day without him knowing a thing. If he could just get near the doctor that was treating her, he would make him feel pain. Strumfelder scrunched up the paper in one hand, and reached for a cigarette himself. He lit it and took a long puff. They were dead. Both of them. Dead. He felt anger more than anything else. Someone had stolen them from him. He didn’t know who, or why, but they had been stolen. And he would find the bastard that did it, and make them suffer.

[revien]

Marlon Revien stood stonily at the great pathway winding towards the small Czechoslovakian village of Liber nad Hradec, an almost insignificant region of the harsh country. But a dangerous one as well. The village was powerfully rebellious, even by Czech standards and they were believed to brandish the might of over two hundred men, prepared to fight to the death against the enemy. A mere thorn in the side of the SS. But thorns could delve deep. And, so, the SS had began to make a personal effort into crushing the village before blood began to run. Of the infamous September Riot in Munich, almost 40% of the Slavic rebels present had been from the village, most of the able population having joined the ranks.

Revien had himself been chosen to infiltrate the village under the name of Kristof Reznik, a Franco-Chzech freedom-fighter and had been welcomed into the village as a commander of the townsfolk. He even wore the makeshift military decoration of the small village, the Medaile Svoboda he had earned from killing a young German private who had been captured in a raid. Revien's conscience was clear over the killing of the man; if he had failed to do so, his cover would be blown and he would himself have been killed, with the entire mission in turmoil.

But now, with such information under his belt of the names and addresses of the rebels -and family members of the rebels - the SS had pushed into the Czechoslovakian border to quell the rebellion once and for all. Every man who had served under Revien or the other so-called commanders - made up mainly of town elders and the odd farmer - would be executed by the SS-Captain Adrian Reinhard and his companions. And it would all be down to Revien.

He had come to the revendouz point alone to meet with the four convoys making their way into Liber nad Hradec to brief them on any last-minute information and then lead them into the village as a true SS soldier. There was only one new scrap of information he had to feed to Reinhard and his men.

Karstenn Petrov, Velitel of the rebellion, the supreme commander of Liber nad Hradec and the entire area surrounding it. Karstenn Petrov, first cousin to Stefan Petrov, the man who had killed Wolfrick Wolfram and to Ivan Petrov, the man whose life would soon be flickering away at the hands of Wolfram and his trusted companions. Revien knew that the medic, that Ärtzlichstabsfeldwebel Strumfelder had been with the Major at his son's death. Perhapshe would take a personal interest in dealing with Petrov?

The first Opal halted before Revien's unwavering gaze and the driver, a middle-aged man with striking blond hair and the uniform that recognised him as a senior NCO, wound down the window and spoke to the Frenchman carefully.

"Meine Ehre heißt Treue," he asked, betraying absolutely no emotion whatsoever as he tried to stare down the calm, almost arrogant figure before him.

"Schädel und Knochen," replied Revien without missing a beat, finishing the password that specified that he was the man they were looking for.

The man's blank face was soon replaced with a grin. Perhaps a grin of relief, mused Revien as he walked up to the truck.

"Vielen dank, freund," said the German, before his head disappeared for a second. "Captain! Wir sind angekommen!" He turned back to Revien as the great doors swang open and eight soldiers moved out and flocked behind Revien. "Markus Falkaen," said the driver, introducing himself cheerfully. "SS-Unterscharführer. Second-in-Befehl aus, um Captain Reinhard,"

By stroking coincidence, a second later a final figure exited the monster of a vehicle and strode over curtly to where Revien was stood. Unterscharführer Falkaen turned slightly pale and too exited the truck.

"Herr Revien, ich vermute?" said Captain Reinhard, a bulky man with a huge moustache above his chapped lips and a sea of military medals pinned proudly to his chest. "Adrian Reinhard, gut, Sie kennen zu lernen endlich,"

"Marlon Revien," said Revien, who seemed to have entered some form of introductory session. "Italienisch-Französischen Batallion. undercover-agent für Captain Wolfram. Klingt eher stilvollen, funktioniert es nicht, Freund?"

Reinhard laughed boomingly at this. Revien smiled awkwardly and continued.

"Wie viele Männer, Sir?" he asked, glancing over to where the sizeable troop of the first convoy were stretching their legs and talking amongst themselves.

"Strumfelder und seine Männer sind in der zweiten Lkw; etwa sieben oder acht von ihnen mit ein paar Mediziner geworfen in," replied Reinhard lazily, checking his wrist watch. "Die letzten beiden sind von einem Paar von Junior Lieteunants, über siebzehn Männer unter ihnen. Also, etwas mehr als dreißig von uns für den Fall, die Dinge ein wenig frostig. Sollte mehr als genug, um den Schaum wir gegen,"

Revien nodded distractedly. There would be a bloodbath in the village that night, that much was certain. And he would be right in the middle of it. The Frenchman grinned. He wouldn't have it any other way.

Translations

Meine Ehre heißt Treue:
(My honour is called loyalty.)

Schädel und Knochen:
(Skulls and bones.)

Vielen Dank, Freund. Captain! Wir sind angekommen:
(Thank you, my friend. Captain! We have arrived!)

Markus Falkaen. SS-Unterscharführer. Second-in-Befehl aus, um Captain Reinhard:
(Markus Falkaen. SS-Unterscharführer. Second-in-command to Captain Reinhard)

Marlon Revien. Italienisch-französischen Batallion. Undercover-Agent für Captain Wolfram. Klingt eher stilvollen, funktioniert es nicht, Freund:
(Marlon Revien. Italian-French batallion. Undercover agent for Captain Wolfram. Sounds rather classy, does it not, friend?)

Herr Revien, ich vermute? Adrian Reinhard, gut, Sie kennen zu lernen endlich.
(Mr Revien, I presume. Adrian Reinhard, good to meet you at last.)

Wie viele Männer, Sir?
(How many men, sir?)

Strumfelder und seine Männer sind in der zweiten Lkw; etwa sieben oder acht von ihnen mit ein paar Mediziner geworfen in. Die letzten beiden sind von einem Paar von Junior Lieteunants, über siebzehn Männer unter ihnen. Also, etwas mehr als dreißig von uns für den Fall, die Dinge ein wenig frostig. Sollte mehr als genug, um den Schaum wir gegen.
(Strumfelder and his men are in the second truck; about seven or eight of them with a couple of medics thrown in. The final two are led by a couple of Junior Lieteunants, about seventeen men amongst them. So, just over thirty of us in case things get a little bit frosty. Should be more than enough to take down the scum we're up against.)

[∬: Erhard Strumfelder]

OOC: Sorry it took so long to post; I’ve up to my neck in work and I wasn’t really in the mood to write. Lest see if we can fast track this now.

The truck continued along the winding road for another five minutes, all that time Strumfelder reviewing what he had just read. Dead, both of them, both of them... Everything they had planned together, a happy family, a good and loyal job, a wonderful life together. Now that had shattered, like a pane of glass, just like his world. Adrenaline flooded into his veins, and he lifted up the rifle next to him, and loaded it carefully, before removing the fragile scope sights; if he was going to be bashing and breaking Slavs, he didn’t want his precious scope to get damaged; it wasn’t worth it.

The truck slowed to a stop as the convoy halted at its destination: Liber nad Hradec. A known resistance strong hold, that needed purging by the Fuhrer’s mighty men. Simple and swift. Strumfelder opened the door and leapt down from the cab, as did Kortig. The Medic walked back along the side of the vehicle, bashing the wooden board hard, letting the men inside know it was time to kill. As he reached the rear, he saw that Kortig had already let down the wooden flap at the back, and men were beginning to arm themselves. The men in the trucks behind were doing the same.

Strumfelder checked his weapon again as he headed to the front of the convoy. Reinhard, the officer that was overseeing the operation was discussing something with what looked like a Czech, dressed in KSÈ garb. He understood that the informants we a key part of keeping the Czechs where they belonged, but spies he never trusted. Once a spy, always a spy. He was a weak hearted enemy, nothing more, nothing less. As he reached the man, he clicked his heals and saluted. “Ich imbin Begriff, die Männer einzuziehen. Ich bin nicht mit gerade einer einfachen Durchführung glücklich. Dieser Platz scheint, mit Kommunisten und ihren russischen Waffen zu stinken. Ich plane, die Platztür durch die Tür zu verschieben und zu nehmen und töte auf alle mögliche gewachsenen Männer, die wir zufällig stoßen. Einfach.”

Strumfelder didn’t wait for a reply; he was respected when it came to brutal killing, ever since that day in September... He moved off, letting the butt of his weapon hit the Slav in the chest hard, without making it look any more than an accident. “Siebzehnter Zug, mit mir. Fünfzehntes/zehntes, mit Kortig. Achtes und zwölftes mit Ihren jeweiligen Unteroffizieren.” He barked the order out. “Obergruppenführer Jaggen bietet eine große Prämie uns, siebzehntes an, wenn wir schon Einfluss von 10 gealterten Männern acht bis vierzehn können. Anscheinend das ' Winkel von Death' möchte mehr Tests durchführen.”




Translations:

“Ich imbin Begriff, die Männer einzuziehen. Ich bin nicht mit gerade einer einfachen Durchführung glücklich. Dieser Platz scheint, mit Kommunisten und ihren russischen Waffen zu stinken. Ich plane, die Platztür durch die Tür zu verschieben und zu nehmen und töte auf alle mögliche gewachsenen Männer, die wir zufällig stoßen. Einfach.”
~ I am about to move the men in. I am not happy with just a simple execution. That place seems to stink with Communists and their Russian weapons. I plan to move and take the place door by door, killing any grown males we come across. Simple.

“Siebzehnter Zug, mit mir. Fünfzehntes/zehntes, mit Kortig. Achtes und zwölftes mit Ihren jeweiligen Unteroffizieren.”
~ Seventeenth Platoon, with me. Fifteenth/Tenth, with Kortig. Eighth and Twelfth with your respective Non Commissioned Officers.

“Obergruppenführer Jaggen bietet eine große Prämie uns, siebzehntes an, wenn wir schon Einfluss von 10 gealterten Männern acht bis vierzehn können. Anscheinend das ' Winkel von Death' möchte mehr Tests durchführen.”
~Obergruppenführer Jaggen is offering a large bonus to us, Seventeenth, if we can yet hold of ten males aged eight to fourteen. Apparently the 'Angle of Death' wants to do some more tests.

[revien]

Revien nodded with respect towards Strumfelder, a man almost legendary throughout the Waffen SS. Everyone knew of how he had practically massacred an entire detatchement of the 7th Armoured Division, a constant thorn in Germany's side. Despite his status as a combat medic, he seemed almost as brutal in battle as the loyal men he treated - more so than many - and he was certainly a man to be feared. He was also known to have several ties with Wolfram himself so it was best to stay on his good side or face the consequences.

Strumfelder spoke sparingly to him, angering Revien marginally. Didn't he know what he had had to go through during this mission? He had himself seen the execution of a third party spy - an American no less - and was only too aware that if he were ever to be discovered then he himself would share that young man's fate. Even with thirty good men behind him, he wasn't entirely confident that he would escape it; he knew how brutal they could be. Revien knew what it was like to be a freedom-fighter - he had himself fought in the Free French Army before his capture at the hands of the Germans and subsequent switched alliance out of fear more than anything - and he sympaphised with these men who were risking everything for their country. He respected Karstenn Petrov unreservedly and knew him to be a good, strong man. But there was nothing he could do about it. He had a job to do and he had no intention of joining the inevitable pile of corpses that would litter the floor in hours to come. German or Czech, it was too early to tell.

He listened intently to Strumfelder's orders and was intrigued at his last point. So, he thought, they were looking for young boys, were they? Either padeophilia was in the air above Berlin or the Ahnenerbe's ambitions were growing. Maybe they would even be forced to join the German ranks, trained to forget their old alliances and raise arms under Hitler's banner. Despite the barbaric acts that would soon follow, Revien couldn't help but be interested at how Reinhard, Strumfelder and their men would go about their task. He narrowed his eyebrows as this was answered by the medic's steady orders. They were intending to go door to door and kill the men who answered their knocking. Who did they think they were, bloody door-to-door salesman?

"Herr Strumfelder, wenn ich Mai?" he asked politely. "Es wird nicht so einfach, wie Sie es aus zu sein, sie wird nicht gehen, ohne ein Kampf. Sie können schwache, aber sie sind vielfältig und die überwiegende Mehrheit sind nicht abgeneigt, um die Waffen - altmodisch Gewehre, vielleicht, aber immer noch eine mögliche Bedrohung. Sie können erwarten, zu verlieren, ein paar Männer, so viel ist sicher. Es gibt dreißig von Ihnen und eine gute hundert-und-fünfzig von ihnen, alle bewaffneten, alle Mörder unserer treuen Brüder in München und unzählige andere Konflikte. Es ist eine kleine Schule nur außerhalb der Dorfmitte; vielleicht fünfzig oder sechzig Kinder werden innerhalb von dieser zweiten, von denen viele im Alter Sie selbst haben gerade angegeben. Wenn wir die Schule, die Tötung des Personals und halten Sie die Kinder als ..., wie Sie sagen ... Geiseln ... dann können wir Kraft, den Feind aus, sie fallen zu lassen ihre Waffen und dann - BAM - Schlachtung," He smiled grimly at this. "Es schlägt die Tür zu Tür Ansatz, nein?"

Translations

Herr Strumfelder, wenn ich Mai? Es wird nicht so einfach, wie Sie es aus zu sein, sie wird nicht gehen, ohne ein Kampf. Sie können schwache, aber sie sind vielfältig und die überwiegende Mehrheit sind nicht abgeneigt, um die Waffen - altmodisch Gewehre, vielleicht, aber immer noch eine mögliche Bedrohung. Sie können erwarten, zu verlieren, ein paar Männer, so viel ist sicher. Es gibt dreißig von Ihnen und eine gute hundert-und-fünfzig von ihnen, alle bewaffneten, alle Mörder unserer treuen Brüder in München und unzählige andere Konflikte. Es ist eine kleine Schule nur außerhalb der Dorfmitte; vielleicht fünfzig oder sechzig Kinder werden innerhalb von dieser zweiten, von denen viele im Alter Sie selbst haben gerade angegeben. Wenn wir die Schule, die Tötung des Personals und halten Sie die Kinder als ..., wie Sie sagen ... Geiseln ... dann können wir Kraft, den Feind aus, sie fallen zu lassen ihre Waffen und dann - BAM - Schlachtung. Es schlägt die Tür zu Tür Ansatz, nein?
(Herr Strumfelder, if I may? It will not be as simple as you make it out to be; they will not go down without a fight. They may be weak but they are many and the vast majority are not averse to carrying weapons - old-fashioned rifles, perhaps, but still a possible threat. You can expect to lose a few men, that much is certain. There are thirty of you and a good hundred-and-fifty of them, all armed, all murderers of our loyal brothers in Munich and countless other conflicts. There is a small school just outside the village centre; perhaps fifty or sixty children will be within at this second, many of whom between the ages you yourself have just specified. If we take the school, kill the staff and hold the children as...how do you say...hostages...then we can force the enemy out, get them to drop their weapons and then - bam - slaughter. It beats the door to door approach, no?)

[Daniel Brennan]

Moderation Post[/u]

Closed due to request.


The following CP has been awarded;

Sergeant Revien: 4CP

Medic Strumfelder: 3CP


~Dan[/colour]