Post by ∬: Gero A. Fritz on Dec 31, 2011 0:39:36 GMT
The sun had reached it’s pinnacle within the sky having reached midday and the warmth engulfed the fat of the land with a glazing soar of sunshine. The skies were clear, very clear and with a miniscule wind to match, it almost seemed like the perfect weather for aerial reconnaissance to be conducted. Trekking through enemy territory, Unteroffizier Fritz knew better to avoid open territory to the all-seeing-eyes and made the executive decision, as such it was, to detour through a sparse patch of woodlands that framed a small greenbelt of land across French farmland - or so his map showed.
Alongside Unteroffizier Fritz was Unteroffizier Reiner, to whom he had served with for a long period of time now during the war and considered a close friend. They had both seen the same combat together, to Gero’s vague memory at least, he didn’t quite recall a time Unteroffizier Reiner hadn’t been there alongside within the thick of the battle somewhere on the frontline fighting with him. Although, the same could have been said for the rest of his small, yet elite squad of men, but Unteroffizier Reiner seemed to stick to Gero’s memory more however, perhaps it was the mere fact that Unteroffizier Reiner had a more recognisable face compared to the others? Felix Reiner sported a full goatee beard that covered his top lip, curved around either side of his mouth and draped down his chin. He also had piercing blue eyes beneath rugged mid-length ash blonde hair. Felix Reiner never looked clean either, he seemed to always have a spot of dirt upon his skin or dried blood on his tunic, perhaps he didn’t wash frequently or change his clothing much? Truth be told, Gero couldn’t remember the last time he had even washed.
Lumbering the Maschinengewehr 42 to rest against his left shoulder, Unteroffizier Fritz took the immediate weight from off his wrists and forearms for a small period of time. There was a fine leather strap that accommodated the heavy machinegun, but Gero found it far easier to manoeuvre the weaponry more freely without the restriction of the strap limiting him to only being able to use the machinegun against one side of his hip. Also, it wasn’t really handy when throwing the machinegun down either and Gero made sure his bipod at the end of the machinegun was always attuned to a particular and estimated forty-degree angle, seeming like a hook on the end of the weaponry, so when throwing it down against a surface, it automatically sprung-out against the ground. It was the little things that made Gero that slight faster in combat, if not obsessed with being constantly ready for anything thrown his way.
As the two men moved through the woodlands, Unteroffizier Fritz stopped the duo and took a knee behind a thick nettle bush. Immediately Unteroffizier Reiner kept his eyes open and watched the surrounding vicinity with his MP40 sub-machine gun primed and ready, whilst Unteroffizier Fritz consulted his map quickly. “Ich dachte, dass ich Wasser hören konnte. Es gibt einen kleinen laufenden Fluss gerade vorn, Süßwasser von den Bergen, so konnte es Kolonisten oder Truppen geben. Seien Sie scharfer Reiner, wir werden uns mit der Verwarnung nähern.” Gero said with a quiet, but firm voice. Felix Reiner nodded to what was said, but before the two embarked any further, Gero pulled a small tube of face paint from out of his Disruptive Pattern Fatigue tunic and began smearing the moist paint over his cheeks, brow and neck. Passing the tube of face paint to Reiner afterwards, he allowed his fellow Unteroffizier to do the same; smearing the moist off-green paint over the immediate regions of his face and neck. The spare paint left on their hands, they simply rubbed together to cover the whites of their knuckles, fingertips and skin.
Moving forward far-more cautiously now, Unteroffizier Fritz had the MG42 swaying at waist height, resting against his right hip as he slowly moved between the trees, before coming to a stop every several paces and allowing Unteroffizier Reiner to move up ahead, whom also moved cautiously between the trees with his MP40 sturdy at the hip. It didn’t take long until the river was within sight. It was a fast moving river, but sounded incredibly shallow due to the water beating mercilessly against the pebbles, rocks and embankment. With a simple gesture from Unteroffizier Fritz, both the Unteroffiziers settled down close-by within distance to one another and watched the area up-ahead, surveying the river and apparent wooden bridges either side to their position. With no immediate danger present, Unteroffizier Fritz cleared some of the foliage beneath the bipod to his MG42 for comfort and stability, before appropriately setting up some ammunition to feed the MG42 - quietly. He carried a belt of ammunition over his shoulders, that was already fed into the MG42, but now laid the ammunition belt out beside the machinegun within a small folded pile, easily capable of feeding into the chamber freely and if all else failed, he had his trusty shotgun holstered within a leather binding upon his back, for those all important close encounters. Not to mention grenades hanging from his belt also and double bayonets. One sheathed at his hip, a large military knife and a concealed smaller military knife upon his leg.
Locked and loaded, he was ready to roar.
Translations:[/b]
Ich dachte, dass ich Wasser hören konnte. Es gibt einen kleinen laufenden Fluss gerade vorn, Süßwasser von den Bergen, so konnte es Kolonisten oder Truppen geben. Seien Sie scharfer Reiner, wir werden uns mit der Verwarnung nähern.
- I thought I could hear water. There is a small running river just up ahead, fresh water from the mountains so there could be settlers or troops. Be sharp Reiner, we'll approach with caution.
