Wanderjar
15-08-2006, 06:05
(OOC: See sign up thread for entry)
General Erich von Manstein viewed the charred remains of Stalingrad, which sat before him. Smoke rose gently from the ruins, and mountains of ash covered much of the city.
The Whermacht Sixth Army moved in. His orders to all officers: move through the city, and to the Volga River, which cut through the city.
It was at least two to three miles from the cities outskirts to the Volga's banks, but if they managed to push the Bolsheviks across the River, they would have a devil of a time getting back across.
[NS::]Reallydrunk
15-08-2006, 06:20
A German Kubel Wagon sped through the destroyed streets of Stalingrad barely slowing at the turn of each corner. In the front a German driver firmly gripped the wheel making each turn at the last minute, it looked as if they were almost certian to get in an accident at any time now. In the back of the vehicle a German Whermacht officer sat smoking a cigerette, he wore a large great coat with a Majors insignia on the shoulder boards, both his hands were covered by black leather gloves,
"Are we almost there Franz, i can't tell one street from another these days.."
The officer moved side to side as they went over the bumps but seemed not to be bothered by the roughness of the road,
"We are almost there sir, right around this bend...."
The driver made a left and there in front of them were Panzers and infantry moving all over the area,
"it seems as if the entire 6th army has been given orders to mobilize..."
The German officer was Major Otto Hess of the Whermacht. He was with the Intelligence Corps working on and off the field, mostly at headquarters questioning prisoners...it was better the Whermacht did it than the SS, by the time the SS were finished no questions could be asked.
"Franz, there...General von Manstein's staff vehicle, that is his Fieldmarshalls flag is it not.."
The kubel wagon rolled to a stop....Franz gunned the engine twice then turned her off. Major Hess stepped out of the vehicle once Franz let him out and started to walk over the rubble scattered on the streets, once Franz closed the door he quickly followed behind holding an MP40.....
H-Town Tejas
16-08-2006, 03:03
Tural Petrov stared up at the ceiling, or at least, what used to be the ceiling, of the building he was hiding in. His Mosin-Nagant M1938 carbine laid across his lap, his Tokarev TT33 was in the pocket of his thick brown winter coat, and everything else was currently in a sack in the building. Now that the Germans essentially had the city cut off, supplies were limited and they needed to conserve what they had. They were on the first and only floor of an ex-three floor building, a building thouroughly destroyed enough that German cars usually didn't look there.
The Azeri squad leader, only about 25, had led ten Red Army "soldiers" since a few months ago, when the old squad leader, Yuri Gregorov, had "disappeared." The reason the young, inexperienced Azeri had been appointed over the others because, well, he was a career soldier. These Slavs the PKKA command had given him were pussies, to be completely frank. The seven Russians and two Ukrainians, who had talked down to him so much back in the day, were now begging him, "Oh, Comrade Petrov, please loan me your hat," or, "Oh, Comrade Petrov, my PPSh-41 is running low..." He was so happy to put these uppity birdshits in their place.
He remembered what he had told them when word had got to them that the Sixth Army had entered.
"Okay, whiteys, I'm going to be totally frank," he had told them, "You will die. I'm not kidding you, you will be killed by fucking fascists. But hey, at least you won't have to tell your kids, 'I swam across the Volga and fled to Kazakhstan during the battle of Stalingrad!'"
Unfortunately, his predictions had not been correct. One of the Russians had stepped outside to bum some bread and was hit by shrapnel from an artillery gun. The rest of them were still whining away.
"Mothafuck you, Vasilij! I'm gonna stay warm and you're gonna get frostbite!" he said to one of the Russians, a little porker with a PPS-43 and an especially annoying habit of whining.
"But Comrade Petrooooov..." Vasilij replied.
"Mothafucka you heard me!" Petrov said.
'I swear, nothing is worth this,' he thought, 'If there's an Allah up there, I had better be swimming in virgins by the time this shit is over.'