Low Morale [Open]

[∬: Rafael Z. Wolfram]

Time: 1700hrs (5pm)
Conditions: Heavy Downpour of Rain.


The rain was thunderous, as thick globules of water dispersed amongst the bunkers and tarmac of the men’s encampment, drenching all those in it’s path, sending local engineers working on nearby convoy trucks for cover amongst an abandoned brush of trees in the short distance. Within an instance, blissful silence was abolished by that of the heavy downpour and sharp crackling of lightening in the mid afternoon sky, draped in fogs of dark mischievous clouds, swooning through the sky with their assault of rain and misery.

Captain Wolfram hastily and briskly walked through the rain, one of his white fine slender hands clapping against his uniform hat as he hurried for the nearest cover -- the Soldier’s bunks, the barracks. Not so eager to enter, knowing fully well the men would’ve shown little compassion or respect to him invading their private quarters of gambling, the Captain hesitantly stood in the rain for a couple of minutes, feeling the wet downpour soak up into the fabric of his fine black uniform, before irrationally and quickly shoving the door open to step in abruptly with the familiar sound of his fine cut leather boots, clicking against the laminate floor’s surface.

Rafael stood in the corridor quietly for a moment, letting out a couple of long exhales from the cold setting in against his wet skin, not really having the time to assign his leather gloves to his soft hands, nor’ having the time to tighten and do-up his black slender tunic that laid tight against his torso. “Dreckiger Regen, wünscht, dass es zurück nach Britannien gehen wird” he said in a grumble to himself, as he attempted to dry his face with the cuff of his uniform, before slowly taking a pace down the corridor, knowing by now, the men would be abruptly cleaning away their dirty possessions and making it seem like they were having a casual chat -- all because they heard his boots approaching.

Eventually, after his slow pace of walk, more interested in wiping his brow clean from the rain, the Captain stopped at a doorway to one of the large bunks of German soldiers, looking in slowly and quietly towards the men inside, who somewhat ignored his presence as they laid quiet on their beds reading or played cards -- without the money on the table. “Sie sind so Ruhe, ich beginnen zu sich fragen, ob diese Armee wahrheitsgemäß den kämpfenden Geist hat, den sie sagen, dass ihm hat…” the Captain said sternly and calmly towards the men within the room, slowly taking a step inwards as he removed his wet officer’s hat, holding it beneath his arm gently, before running a hand through his short blonde hair - once long and curly, before the Military took too it.


Translations:[/b]

Dreckiger Regen, wünscht, dass es zurück nach Britannien gehen wird
~ Filthy rain, wish it'll go back to Britain.

Sie sind so Ruhe, ich beginnen zu sich fragen, ob diese Armee wahrheitsgemäß den kämpfenden Geist hat, den sie sagen, dass ihm hat...
~You're so quiet, i'm beginning to wonder whether this army truly has the fighting spirit they say it has...

[Naga Warasaki]

“It’s better for a soldier to speak his fortitude through his feats than with a false fanfare of triumph,” the young soldier whispered through the silence, unaware of the person he addressed was a captain. “Check, my friend,” he smiled with a childlike innocence placing a horse in position for the white king, “Besides only a senseless simpleton will mistake boisterous vigor as bravery in the face of war without knowing the consequence that such action alerts his enemies. Eh…Paul, your move. What’s the matter with you?”

[∬: Rafael Z. Wolfram]

As a soft toned voice beckoned to be heard, Rafael almost cringed a little, as he’d expected no reply, nor’ acknowledgment to his presence being there. Sure, he was a Captain and fair-do leader of men, but when the soldiers retreated back to their bunks, most cared very little for their higher ranking authorities, finding it easier to be quiet, than open their mouths in fear they’d say something wrong. He couldn’t blame them, but Rafael wasn’t mean to his fellow brethren, that was until his eyes laid upon a young Japanese boy doing the speaking…

Etching his wet boots closer into the room, making more of those god-forsaken clicks with his boots, that made most men’s stomach churn to the thought of a superior walking their way, he watched the young soldier wittily outdo his opponent. “Sie sprechen solchen Weisheitsoldaten,” Rafeal said eagerly stern, as he tilted his head to look down towards the male playing his game of chess, smirking a little to continue. “Unsinnig simpletons ist, was behält das Land laufend, jubelnd in Tapferkeit für Sieg - gut, ist das etwas, das Sie noch haben, zu erfahren” he quietly gestured, leaning in to grasp a chess piece and clunk it down, making the move for Paul. “Kontrolle, Soldat…” the Captain said wittily, before standing straight and grinning a little, before turning to glance around the room a little at the various quiet occupants littering it.

“Obwohl, ist Stille golden… ich muss zugeben” he said a little quietly, before rolling his shoulders and sighing to entail with “Aber hat derjenig sich sorgen mich gedrückt”, before he grasped his uniform hat to plant on the window ledge, leaning against the cold wooden frame to stare out into the dreary rain, thinking a little to himself quietly.

Translations:[/b]

Sie sprechen solchen Weisheitsoldaten,
~ You speak such wisdom Soldier,

Unsinnig simpltons ist, was behält das Land laufend, jubelnd in Tapferkeit für Sieg - gut, ist das etwas, das Sie noch haben, zu erfahren
~ Senseless simpletons are what keep the country running, cheering in valour for victory - well, that’s something you’ve yet to experience

Kontrolle, Soldat...
~ Check, Soldier…

Obwohl, ist Stille golden… ich muss zugeben
~ Although, Silence is golden… I must admit

Aber hat derjenig sich sorgen mich gedrückt
~ But depressed ones worry me

[Naga Warasaki]

His chair shifted brashly as if he was strained by a trouble thought. “I’m sorry, sir,” Naga stood up in a formal bow, “I did not mean to mock you.”

But as he sputtered the words out, the soldier found it amusing for this Captain to find a flaw in the opening move. Only my brother has used that move on me.

Filled with admiration, the young man felt at odd as to why the elder soldier gave a grave response. “I don’t understand, sir,” he averted his gaze on the ground, “Soldiers whose heart is not with the country are not soldiers to begin with. They will forsake the battlefield, most likely with death, and their absence leaves the nation only with the best of the best.”

[∬: Rafael Z. Wolfram]

OOC: So sorry this is long and looks confusing.

As the soldier made his apology, the Captain somewhat ignored it, finding it irrelevant and understandable for a comrade to mistake his presence for another soldier - more so, he wasn’t even apart of their division, so his voice, posture and movements were unfamiliar, let alone the disrespect of him wandering into their quarters, finding shelter from the rain. Captain Wolfram was a respectable officer and allowed his own men, personally, space to themselves as best he could; no matter how a loom of authority or high ranking he may very well be.

Leaning against the cold brazen wood of the window ledge, his hard exhales began to fog the tainted thick panels of glass before his very eyes, condensing the soft surface with his hot breath, almost like his mental vision faired of their morale. Foggy. “Heh, Sie sprechen von Soldaten, brauchen die Leidenschaft für ihr Land -- noch viele von diesen Männern von ihren Feldbett geschnappt wurden, hat gezwungen, zu kämpfen” he said a little dispersedly amongst long inhales of breath from the cold against his skin, trying to shiver out some warmth beneath his thick black Nazi tunic.

The men’s gaze in the room alarmed Captain Wolfram a little, knowing fully well they’d never heard an Officer speak such truthful words before. “Ich kann nicht helfen aber kann die Verzweiflung für Männer, die kein Herz beim Kämpfen unseres Feinds haben, für ihren Verrat bezweifelt werden kann fühlen…Kann Sie nicht hören es Soldat?” the Captain questioned the young Asian male before him, slowly stepping close, staring down the young man with his piercing blue eyes beneath such hard exterior to his skull. “Können Sie jene Stille, das spricht so viele Wörter nicht hören? Nicht nur hier aber die Gräbenmeilen weg, in den unsere Brüder legen, bezweifelnd sich zu warum -- Warum sie hier sind? Das ist, was sich mich sorgt, Soldat” he Captain said somewhat sternly, hoping to have drawn the attention of the room, knowing fully well most of them were questioning their faith in Hitler… To his Regime…

Giving a full hardy sigh, the Captain grinned to himself and nodded a little, “Ich habe den lästigen englischen Gebräutee und Lachen um den Krieg gehört, aber wir, wir bezweifeln und bleiben schweigsam, wie wir kein Herz haben…” he finally entailed, almost like he was making a speech, rather than responding to the Asian male who didn’t understand his worrisome stature in the room, but the Captain smiled and slowly planted his hand on the Private’s shoulder before him. “Sie wissen wenig von unserer Kultur, während ich zu ihrem mache, noch kämpfen wir zusammen für eine stärkere Welt. Das ist, was ich Leidenschaft rufe, die wir für jubeln sollten” he uttered somewhat proudly.

Translations:[/b]

Heh, Sie sprechen von Soldaten, brauchen die Leidenschaft für ihr Land -- noch viele von diesen Männern von ihren Feldbett geschnappt wurden, hat gezwungen, zu kämpfen.
~ Heh, you speak of soldiers needing passion for their country -- yet many of these men were snatched from their cots, forced to fight.

Ich kann nicht helfen aber kann die Verzweiflung für Männer, die kein Herz beim Kämpfen unseres Feinds haben, für ihren Verrat bezweifelt werden kann fühlen…Kann Sie nicht hören es Soldat?
~I can’t help but feel the despair for men that have no heart in fighting our enemy, for their treason can be questioned…Can you not hear it Solder?

Können Sie jene Stille, das spricht so viele Wörter nicht hören? Nicht nur hier aber die Gräbenmeilen weg, in den unsere Brüder legen, bezweifelnd sich zu warum -- Warum sie hier sind? Das ist, was sich mich sorgt, Soldat
~Can you not hear that silence, that speaks so many words? Not just here, but the trenches miles away in which our brethren lay, questioning themselves to why -- Why are they here? That is what worries me, soldier

Ich habe den lästigen englischen Gebräutee und Lachen um den Krieg gehört, aber wir, wir bezweifeln und bleiben schweigsam, wie wir kein Herz haben
~I’ve heard the pesky English brew tea and laugh about the war, but we, we question and remain silent, like we have no heart

Sie wissen wenig von unserer Kultur, während ich zu ihrem mache, noch kämpfen wir zusammen für eine stärkere Welt. Das ist, was ich Leidenschaft rufe, die wir für jubeln sollten
~You know little of our culture, as I do to yours, yet we fight together for a stronger world. That is what I call passion we should cheer for

[Naga Warasaki]

Naga opened his mouth to deny the words of the captain but only the mute tongue addressed him. He talked of the truth, of the very truth, I thought of in my mind. And no matter how we are trained to say otherwise the fact is reality. We are soldiers. Fight or die.

The young soldier stared blankly on the ground clenching his fists tighter and tighter until his knuckles were white from the strain. So many has died in the fields of war. Daidoji, Yura, Mamoru… What price must they pay for the selfishness of their commanders? Do they simply exist as pawns to flaunt who has the greater power?

The wooden flank groaned from the drizzled rain, and the private lifted his eyes to listen to the silent cry. Maybe there is no price on human life. Maybe they are merely raindrops with nowhere to go except the dirt ground.

Yet… He stared at the men before him. Why do we continue to fight when the time comes?

“Sir,” he spoke in a firm voice, “We do have heart. We may question our purpose here but we never question the bond we forged. This is why we have heart. And this is why we fight.”

“For this reason I am proud to serve among these men along with yourself, sir.”

[∬: Rafael Z. Wolfram]

OOC: I’ll leave the translations/talking German for the rest of this thread, only makes it longer and complicated.

The maturely young blue eyed and blonde haired Captain watched the young soldier before him contemplate what he was saying, perhaps trying not to become enraged by the truthful meaning of his words -- but Rafael wanted to see this rage, this spirit of fuelled anger, for it was aggression that was needed on the fields of battle. “Let it out, young boy” was all the Captain could think to himself, as he observed the foreign, yet identical soldier to the German’s before him.

A soft nod beckoned from the Captain’s head as he smirked a little to turn on his heels somewhat, looking over the various quiet patrons within the room watching, listening to their conversation. “Then maybe these men in your platoon may take credit for having such a young-esteemed male with heart in their company” he muttered a little to himself, rather than the room, before giving his attention back to the soldier before him, extending his hand to softly rest against the male’s shoulder. “Indeed, we should take pride in for whom’ we stand, but I see little of that too amongst men these days” he soon entailed, giving a slight shrug before a soft laugh to drop his hand from off the male’s shoulder.

Slowly taking a pace along the cold floor, Rafael leaned against one of the many bunks in the room, slowly glancing around himself quietly. “I have little passion for this war, I be honest” he somewhat bluntly spat out, before continuing “But I have passion for it’s cause and the people who serve amongst us, alike yourself soldier---?” he slightly questioned towards the Asian male, wondering the Soldier’s name, before finally adding. “My faith lays with Hitler, for he foresees the strength of the fatherland, unto those mongrels in the far west. Britain has been invaded numerous times, their blood curdles with diseases, if we do not strike first, their pesky British empire would span to more third world countries that would plague this world” Rafael gave a little shudder to his obvious racism, a typical Nazi, unable to bare the thought of his beloved fatherland being mingled with hundreds of nationalities in one.

[Naga Warasaki]

As the officer paused maybe to question his name, Naga only stood there silent not wanting to interrupt the soldier he had come to respect. He knew too little of the ways of the world, and the elder man knew so much that the young soldier felt himself not worthy to be graced by his presence. Sometimes he saw the same reaction with his German peers when they listened intently during Hitler’s speech on the radio. Though he came to learn to speak in the German tongue, Naga could never understand why their leader Hitler was held in high esteem with the people. Adolf Hitler was not a god like the emperor of Japan nor was he born with a noble lineage. He’s just an average man similar to the rest of them. But Naga was smart enough to know by no means should he question their beloved leader as that is to risk himself in their company.

With a disheartened sigh, he gave a slight nod to the captain. “Thank you sir for opening our eyes. It’s a pleasure for me to talk with you.” Though I still don’t understand why you hated the British. I swore through my eyes I hardly can pinpoint the difference between a British and a German without their uniform. Naga pondered to himself walking away quietly to stare down on the chess board. Too bad the world can’t be right or wrong, black or white.

EDIT: A gust of wind swept through the door and recalled private Warasaki what he had to do after his break. Rain or shine, Naga knew when he had to perform his duty. He left rather quickly, bowing once to the German officer without a word, and walked out the door.

[PuNk! ™]

Moderation Post:[/b]

Having an Inquisitive talk and raising morale, Captain Wolfram & Private Warasaki have made an Acquaintance. You have been awarded the following CP;

Captain Wolfram: 7CP
You have been awarded the following CP for intellectually talking about the war.

Private Warasaki: 7CP
You have also been awarded for respectably talking about the War too.

~Danny