”Faster dude, faster!” Chris Walsh yelled without looking back over his shoulder, one gloved hand gripping the side of what most people would probably think was a wheelbarrow that he was sat inside tightly.

Yeah. Looks like a wheelbarrow. To a civilian. But this was actually a test of the Mark I Armored Casualty Recovery Vehicle (ACRV). Only it was unarmored. Walsh had mooted the idea of jury-rigging some sandbags to the sides for additional crew protection but the design team had decided that the power plant - Ward - probably wouldn’t have been able to handle the extra weight so the armour was vetoed, they were going for light and fast. Like the dune buggies that some of the Army Light Divisions had been equipped with.

Its weaponry was seriously lethal. One whack across the back of the legs with the broomstick that was in Walsh’s other hand would take out any opponent. He’d initially suggested a TOW launcher but that had also been vetoed on weight grounds. That and the fact that Mad Dogs didn’t actually have a TOW launcher. Further requests for the Carl Gustav had been similarly vetoed, this time for safety reasons, on the grounds that they might actually blow up Kaminski’s penthouse by mistake. Granted the broom might have to go if they painted red crosses on it as someone had suggested.

But for now Walsh was holding the broomstick like Sir Lancelot holding a….well….lance…in one hand, using it to gesture at Babicevs, while clutching the side of the ACRV with the other when the thing started to wobble as they took the next corner, causing him to let go of the side and place his hand on top of his head to ensure that his combat vehicle crewman headgear - aka Stetson - didn’t fall off. ”Dude, we’re fucking wobbling here!”

"Weebles wobble Walsh, but they DO NOT FALL DOWN," Jake shouted as pushed his legs to 105% and steadied his grip.

He kept telling himself the same thing over and over... Two full laps... two full laps...

"Target sighted! Ten o'clock!" Walsh yelled, shifting his ass from one side to the other as the wheelbarrow's left wheel left the ground, the shift of weight returning all three wheels to the ground. "One Latvian! CHARGE!" Bringing his lance broomstick to bear on Varis, Walsh starts to whistle 'Garryowen'...

Jose sits in the cafeteria, eating the last of a helping of warm-ish porridge from a cup, while sitting at a small table with a pair of the civilians. He laughs gently as young Konrad makes a funny face at him from across the table, the boy's blonde hair briefly sticking to his out-struck tongue. Meanwhile, Lucia, the boy's mother, turns to lightly scold the boy. "Zostaw go. On jest zabawny." Jose says to Lucia, before giving her a quick wink.

Jose and Lucia had grown close over the past few weeks, the hint of a romantic relationship starting to form. She had helped nurse the American back to health and taught him a light smattering of Polish, and in return Jose, well Jose wasn't quite sure what she was getting from the bonding. Perhaps a sense of having some measure of safety, or a role model for Konrad? He isn't sure what she was getting out of the relationship and didn't think he was a good role model, but he liked the woman, despite the fact that she was a little older than he was. And her son made him laugh. The pair of civilians offered a glimpse of normal life despite the ravages of the world outside the walls of the compound.

Jose looks up and nods to Ferro as she walks in, a bit late to the morning meal. Ferro notices that Jose's face is now unbandaged, but a long, raw pink scar is starting to form on the left side where he had been grazed by a bullet in the sewers. His left ear, relatedly, is partially missing. As the trio finish their meal, Jose overhears chatter from others in the kitchen, and then speaks to the woman and son. "Podążać. Zabawa." Konrad starts to whine, not wanting to go out into the chillier morning air. Jose gives a more serious look at the boy. "Podążać." He then ushers them both outside to watch the silliness ensuing.

As soon as they walk out through the main doors of the compound and with his concerns about the cold immediately dissipating, Konrad starts laughing as the pair of Mad Dogs go careening by, the wheelbarrow starting to wobble dangerously. Jose smiles as well - it was only a matter of time until some undoubtedly hilarious disaster would befall the racers, and he wanted to see it. As Ward and Walsh go screaming by a second time, Jose calls out. "Ay you got this, Ward. Muy macho!" he yells and laughs as he flexes his biceps, showing support for the other Americans and their unorthodox round of PT. He then looks around to get a feel for the day, and checks to see what other Mad Dogs are now present and to see what else might happen around the compound today.

Tosh watches silently from the roof at the session below of the rest of the Mad Dogs recovering and trying to get back into fighting shape after they're numerous injuries.  He is tempted to yell down at them but, he lets them have their fun.  Hed turns to walk away, stops, and returns to the ledge.  "OI!  WE ALL SHOULD BE DOIN' THAT EVRYDAY MATES!"

"Przypływa łódź." Zdzisław calls up to Tosh (on the roof). The crippled Pole is down in the snow with his goats, leaning on his crutch, with his other arm pointing downriver. "Boat." he hollers next, perhaps unsure if the British Mad Dog up on the lookout duty speaks Polish. Sure enough, there's a motorized craft on the Martwa Wisla and heading this way. The shouting and fun with the wheelbarrow dies down, and those outside soon hear the boat's engine against the cold morning wind. Things are different than they used to be though. The city is unified and peaceful (albeit under totalitarian rule). And, unknown or not, a boat out on the river isn't cause to call for stand to. Zdzisław's voice doesn't even carry alarm, he's simply pointing it out. There's no resupply scheduled for today and the boat isn't just passing by. The engine changes tempo, with the small craft slowing and turning towards the compound's dock.

Tosh stops is yelling and looks down to Zdzisław calling up to him.  Trying to figure out what he's saying, he looks in the direction he is pointing and finally sees the boat approaching.  He reaches down for his AN/PRC-126 radio and transmits.  "Roof top ta all radios, we got a vessel comin' in ta the dock area!"

The craft arriving at the compound's dock is a skiff, not unlike Gdansk's riverboat taxis. The only difference being that it's fitted with an outboard engine instead of relying on oarsmen (usually the paying passengers). A woman is seated up near the raised prow, Kalashnikov resting casually across her lap. She's dressed in a large purple hoody underneath US Army issue combat rigging. A hand radio is clipped to one of the latter's shoulder straps. At the stern, a bearded fellow maneuvers the boat via the outboard engine's steering arm. He wears faded blue jeans and a black winter coat, under a chest rig. The same brand of civilian hand radio as the woman's is visible on his kit too. His Kalashnikov is leaning against the inside of the boat. Lastly, seated in the middle of the skiff, is a middle aged passenger.

The skiff's wooden bow rubs against the dock as it makes contact, scraping off some icicles, while the woman uses an outstretched gloved hand to physically bring the craft to a stop. The engine cuts out, with the silence making it known that a few words are exchanged before the passenger exits the boat alone. He then heads across the grounds towards the main building. During the walk, a meaningful look is given to where several graves exist even though they're completely buried under snow. The visitor then makes eye contact with the Mad Dogs who were racing about with the wheelbarrow, and are now focused on him. "Hello, good morning, men. I am here for Hauptmann Kessler." he announces with a soft voice, which carries a slight German accent. The visitor lowers a plaid scarf that's wrapped loosely around his face and accompanies the greeting with a polite, if not awkward, smile. The hand is wrapped in white gauze. He then uses the bandaged hand to return the scarf so that is partly covers his face again. The rest of his clothing is entirely civilian. He's even wearing a tie. After another moment, he's escorted inside and seated in the building's little mess hall to wait for Kessler.

Kessler enters and seats himself across the table from the man he knows as "Olympic". A few other Mad Dogs are present, those who escorted the BND supervisor inside as well or entered out of curiosity. Olympic doesn't seem to mind the conversation he's about to have isn't going to be entirely private. Although he does motion for Rodriguez to close the door (to the hallway). Michael is first to speak and inquires about his visitor's bandaged hand. "Oh das. Ich habe es an einer wertlosen Lampe verbrannt." Olympic explains, glancing down at the wrapped gauze, looking a little embarrassed. Oh that. I burned it on a worthless lamp. The Hauptmann then asks about Karel Janku, the Czech defector-turned BND operative (and former member of Kessler's team). The response is a non-answer and is delivered without emotion. "Arbeiten." Working.

Olympic removes his coat and peels his scarf off, laying them on the bench seat. "There is a man coming from Kiel. I mentioned to you about him before. He will arrive tonight on the coast." the older German begins. "I would like you to be there and bring him here." A pause follows to give Kessler an opportunity to respond. Olympic didn't come out this way just to ask for the Mad Dogs to transport someone across town though. "He is going south, to Malbork. Kiel only sent him alone, as, you know, they know we have you and your unit on hand, so to speak." The BND station chief looks across at Kessler for a moment, before gently tapping his uninjured hand's fingers on the Formica table. "So as you can guess, I need you to go into the field with our man."

Olympic pushes his eyeglasses further up his nose and gives a brief glance to Mad Dogs who're on the sidelines. He then returns his focus to the Hauptmann. "As I said before, we get this done and I can pull you and your unit out."
This message was last edited by the GM at 01:25, Tue 23 Jan.

There’s a pause while Kessler processes the message that Olympic has just delivered Actually no, not a message. Orders. After a period of what might be called freelancing, this is coming directly from German Third Army Headquarters. And must, presumably, be important.

”OK.” he replies after a moment. ”Where is he being landed? How far away from the City? And in whose territory? What’s the potential for anyone interfering with us getting him here? And by here, I take it you mean here?” He gestures around him, to indicate the rowing club. ”I mean, he will be staying here at our kaserne until he moves on?”

The German sits back, takes a sip of tea from the mug with the image of John Paul the Second on it that he had more or less claimed as his own. ”How long will he be staying in Danzig? I’ll have some supply requests, things that we’ll need before we head south. I’ll give you a list before you leave. I presume you’ll be able to square anything we need with the new Government. Don't worry, I wont be asking for anything ridiculous.” BND must. presumably, have some influence with Nowak’s people. There are no questions about the identity of the newcomer or why he needs to go to Malbork. Neither Kessler nor anyone else in the room needs to know that.

He pauses then, waits for Olympic’s responses, and to see if anyone else wants to jump in with any questions. Or pick up on the comment about pulling them out, something Kessler had kept to himself until then, partly because he hadn’t been entirely sure that Olympic intended to keep his word.

Ferro slips in through the door right before Rodriguez can close it. She initially stands along the wall, but only for about fifteen seconds of listening in before realizing what's happening is more interesting and important than she thought it would be. Ferro relocates from the wall and sits on the same bench as Kessler across from the other German. It doesn't go unnoticed that the older gentleman goes from speaking in German to English. It's certainly meant to include the audience on the sidelines so she starts prepping her own questions.

There's a big difference between getting to a place and getting into a place, especially if it's Malbork. She hasn't been there but knows that it is the headquarters of the combined armies under the Soviet Baltic Front command. Security is probably tight. Following Kessler's series of questions and a supply request, Ferro asks for a little clarification. "Are we expected to escort your man to Malbork? Or infiltrate the city with him?" As the words escape her mouth she felt like she already knew the answer. When it comes she's already ready with a follow up. "How much time do we have once we complete the pickup tonight?" More time would mean more prep and exploring options on the ground.

Her own questions and mental picture of the map leads her to look sideways at Kessler and rewind things back to his supply request. "We have fuel for the BTR, that's it. We will need ethanol for everything else." Meaning the Humvee and Iltis.

Ferro then returns her thoughts to what lay south. "We haven't been that way since the summer." she says while looking down at the table. The comment is almost just her speaking aloud. Ferro then looks to Olympic and mulls asking about getting an updated briefing on the situation there. She ultimately decides against it. Olympic seemed like he knew how to do his job and so a report would already be coming if the information is available. Ferro asks a different question. "We... have developed a sort of responsibility here. People have grown to depend on us for protection. While we are away will there be any kind of arrangements made to help keep them safe?"
This message was last edited by the player at 00:54, Wed 24 Jan.

"Stacks Beach. Stogi." Olympic answers when asked for the drop point. It's northeast of the compound, a sandy stretch of the coast midway between the Westerplatte and mouth of the Vistula. It's also only two or three kilometers from where Nowak made landfall and launched her coup, but that was weeks ago. The coast is deserted once again. When Kessler asks whose territory it is, his fellow countryman chuckles quietly, "Yours now I suppose." Had the arrival of Olympic's operative occurred on schedule, weeks ago, the pickup might've been more complicated. "I don't expect you will have trouble. Port Island has a few exiles and outcasts, loners, but nothing your unit needs to worry about." The BND station chief then clarifies that the man to be picked up will need to be brought here, to the compound, but only for as long as it takes for the Mad Dogs to get underway (south). Hours or a day, no more.

"Drop off is set for high tide, 23:30 hours." Olympic explains next. The older German fetches something in his pocket and places it on the table. It's a glow stick, but one that emits IR, so invisible to the naked eye. "Use that as a beacon and crack it a good twenty minutes early. He will challenge you with swordfish. The reply is mountain. Both in English."

"I can get you some supplies before you leave." Olympic replies after that matter is raised. He then asks Michael, "You recall the woman with the bicycle who brought you to our first meeting?" He doesn't wait for a reply. It's understandable if the Hauptmann doesn't remember. "Anyway, she handles logistics for me now and is good at it. You will get what you need in time." Ferro's inclusion of fuel is then met with a nod, "Ethanol fuel too."

The question of escort or infiltrate is met with a moment of silence. Olympic then pushes his eyeglasses further up on his nose with his bandaged hand and answers, "At this time it is escort. But be prepared for the needs of the mission to change, and you to infiltrate with him." He then offers a soft smile, "I know this unit can adapt on its feet." The timeframe for the mission is set at four days which starts following the pickup at Stacks Beach, and includes travel time. Lastly, Ferro directs discussion to the compound, or rather, the safety and security of its inhabitants. The reply that comes is brief but sounds genuine. "I expected as much. Arrangements will be made."

Olympic then glances at the other Mad Dogs who're present and gives the group a collective nod. Everyone looks rested up, healed, and a lot better than they were in December. His focus returns to Kessler. "The pickup should be easy enough. After that it is just a matter of moving through enemy territory and bypassing security. Once our man and his baggage are brought into Malbork, you simply need to get out. What happens next won't be your fight... unless your unit wishes to remain in Poland." The last part is given with a raised eyebrow.

There doesn't seem to be any further questions at this time, so Olympic puts on his coat again. "Karel is fact finding. He will be here before you leave to pass on what little intelligence we can provide regarding the situation with the Baltic Front." A nod and pat on Kessler's shoulder is given as he gets up and leaves the little mess hall (departing by boat quickly afterwards).

Jose holds the door for a second as Ferro slips in, then closes it as instructed. He decides to stand near the door, with one foot up on the wall behind him, bracing him. He smoothes out his hair with his left hand, feeling it scratch against the now-course topography of his left cheek on the way up to his brace of dark hair. He stays quiet as the newcomer starts speaking in German, not knowing what any of it meant. Once the man switches to English however, Jose feels his hackles begin to rise.

A mission? For this nobody? Pulling us out? Jose searches his memory - he had heard Kessler briefly mention a link to German High Command roughly a month earlier. Was this man that link? - then the truth starts to finally dawn on the burly Mexican American and his brows furrow. This man, his statement about having the Mad Dogs "on hand", the mission, his promise... he was a spook. Kessler was working with what was probably a German spook. Jose crosses his arms and opens his ears. He didn't trust spies at all, and whatever this man was selling Jose decided he wasn't buying. At least not yet. He resolves to meet up with Kessler after this impromptu meeting was over to get some answers.

In the meantime, a promise to get him out? Jose had never even considered the possibility, and especially not after getting separated from the rest of his unit. Of course, a promise like that would have unbelievable strings attached to it. Ideas of suicide missions into enemy headquarters flitted through Jose's mind. That's what he figured he could expect from this man.
This message was last edited by a game editor at 00:13, Thu 25 Jan.

Aware that several pairs of eyes are on either him or their unexpected visitor, Kessler rises when Olympic takes his leave, looks about the room. ”Right, we’ll have a full briefing at ten hundred hours. Mad Dog personnel only. I’ll answer any questions then.” He then rises, follows the BND chief out of the mess room.

---

0959hrs
Kessler walks back in to the mess room one minute before ten o’clock, accompanied by Lukas Fischer. Both are in full German Army uniform, their flecktarn fatigues showing their respective rank badges and unit patches, each with the small black, red, and gold flag of the Federal Republic of Germany on their left shoulder, maroon berets on their heads.

”OK, can I have everyone’s attention please?” he announces, waiting a moment for the conversation to die down, while also looking around to make sure that everyone that should be here is here and no one that should not be here is present. The second category includes Karolina Schleicher. For all that she seems to be making every effort to fit in with the Mad Dogs, when it comes to briefing an operation being undertaken on behalf of the BND there’s no seat inside the room for her.

”As you know we had a visitor this morning. He is a representative of German Intelligence, the BND. He and I have been in sporadic contact for some time now and through him I have had occasional messages from Third German Army Headquarters in Kiel. As such, at this point I am acting under orders from my legitimate chain of command.” He doesn’t go any further than that for now. He could make the point that as the ranking NATO officer in the room that chain of command extends from him to the NATO soldiers present. But not everyone here is a NATO soldier. And he’d rather have willing volunteers than unwilling conscripts.

”The Mad Dogs have proven themselves a dozen times over. The BND needus. I don’t know what they’re planning but I do know that they wouldn’t be asking for our help if it wasn’t important. Important for all our countries. And once this operation is over there’s a way out of here, back to the west, to Germany. I know for most of you that’s not home but it’s a step in the right direction. There will be a place in the German Army and German citizenship for anyone that wants it -“ at this point he looks at Ferro and Babicevs ”- and for anyone that doesn’t I’ll do all that I can to help you get back to your own countries.” This time he looks at the Americans, the British, Kolstrup. The latter could walk to the Danish border from Kiel in twenty four hours. ”Of course nobody has to come to Germany. If anyone wants to stay here that’s their decision.”

”So, ja, that’s the deal. We do one more job and we get pulled out, to Germany. Are you all with me? And does anyone have any questions?”

Jake sheepishly raised his hand.

"Uh...just because I know I'll get asked by household six... does the citizenship offer apply to dependents?  Or like a green card for them if I'm in the German army or whatever?" he asked.  Jake didn't think Germany would be ideal for him if there was a way to get back to the USA, but Gosia would get a vote in wherever he'd be going next.
This message was lightly edited by the player at 17:33, Fri 26 Jan.

Jose stands in the mess room, his usual light-heartedness replaced by a stern facial expression - the possibility of an exit from the war weighing heavily on him, on top of what was surely to be a tough mission. It was good that Kessler was holding a briefing to help clarify what was happening for everyone, but there were a lot of questions left to be answered and he wasn't sure Kessler would have those answers.

First, the spook. Knowing Kessler's fastidious nature, Jose instantly presumes the Captain would have properly vetted him before ever having followed his orders. Meaning the man was actual German intelligence and represented actual orders from actual NATO HQ? That was the first Jose had heard of NATO orders in a long time - not since the 8th had rolled out in middle of the summer and his unit's subsequent run eastward that ended in Klaipeda. Jose spent some long minutes grappling with the idea of NATO orders. Was he still a NATO soldier? Did he still have to adhere to the chain of command? He eventually comes to a realization, falling back onto his old misguided gang code of honor - I'm not going to punk out until I get my walking papers. The mission though...that was a different story. He raises his hand in between comments.

"Sir, this hombre, Olympic. Is he trustworthy? What I mean to say is, we don't know him for shit. Does he mean what he says about being able to get us out? And this escort to Malbork of all places - That's the Soviet HQ in northern Poland last I heard. Heading that way is going to be extremely dicey. Do you think he's the type to send us out on a suicide mission?" Jose didn't trust spooks - they represented an authority that didn't live by any moral code other than getting a job done, and he didn't want to end up a casualty as a result of some spook's personal ambitions.

"And secondly, getting back to Germany. Any idea how that might work? It's one thing for this guy to make a promise like that, but another to make it actually happen. Maybe he could get us out the same way he's bringing this guy in? Even if he does make good on it though - what then? Say we make it to Germany - Are we going to get our discharge papers? Or just get cycled right back here when some general needs more bodies?" Jose didn't think Kessler had any ideas about that stuff, but figured he'd ask. Maybe Olympic had shared more about what was happening back home than he had told the unit.

For no particular reason, this Olympic reminds Per of Vincent Wright. And that working relationship didn't end well. For anyone. Per trusts Kessler, though, and if Kessler trusts Olympic, that's enough for Per. Others have raised concerns that Per shares, but the Dane sees no point in repeating what's already been said.

-

"Yes, Captain, how do we know we can trust this Olympic's promises? He could be a German version of Vincent Wright. Remember that [air-quotes] 'CIA' [end air-quotes] sack of shit?"

Varis withholds that the prospect of going to America, perhaps now more real than ever before, is giving him a bit of a chub. Truth is, he's bored, jonesing for the adrenaline of physical danger. A raid on Malbork sounds like it could be fun.

"But Varis has nothing better to do right now than to fuck up Moscow's shit, so if that's the job, cool. Varis will need more Soviet 40mm grenades, though. Pamela has big appetite."

-
This message was lightly edited by a game editor at 22:53, Fri 26 Jan.

Ferro goes back and lays on her cot until Kessler's morning briefing. A few minutes pass with her staring at the ceiling and replaying what the German visitor said. Not a whole lot was said but there was still a lot to unpack. Ferro then gives up thinking about that and more about their upcoming pickup. She rolls over and yanks her map from the webbing under the cot. A review of the area north of the river is studied. It looks like a quick run to the beach. No real problems, probably. There's only one potential issue that goes noticed by her. The drive will be done probably in darkness and along Forest City's outer territory. Ferro then checks her watch and stuffs the map into her pocket while getting to her feet.

At the meeting Ferro is quietly in thought. She always figured that there would come a day that she'd get to leave Poland, but sitting her now, it feels strange. And where did she want to go? She closes her eyes for a moment as Kessler continues talking.

Varis mentions Wright as a sack of shit and Ferro finally opens her eyes again. "Hey, don't talk about my old boss like that." she tells him quietly and almost a whisper. "Oh wait... nevermind." Where the hell did he end up, she wondered.

Ferro then answers Kessler's question. "Yes, with you."
This message was last edited by the player at 01:10, Sat 27 Jan.

Tosh nods his head, "A proper pint in a proper pub?  I think it's worth a shot Cap'n."

"Dude..." Walsh leans over, in Babicevs' direction. "The last time I looked you could count the number of CIA Officers in Poland on one hand. And none of them ever used the name Vincent Wright. Don't know who this guy you know is but I doubt he was Agency." He shrugs, grins. "I know these things."

The American then sits back, looks at Kessler. Truth be told he doesn't; know if this is really his fight. But then he doesn't actually know what is any more. After all, Uncle Sam wants him dead. Which makes the carrot that Kessler is offering look like a kinda big stick. He hadn't even really fought for Nowak, having been out of action for most of the coup. If Ivan comes knocking on the door he'd fight for Gdańsk.  But to go poking the bear by heading to down town Malbork? He's less keen on that.

Then Varis and Ferro both say that they're in. Walsh nods. That's it really, isn't it. You fight for your buddies, have their back, just like they have yours. "I'm in. But I'll pass on the ride back to Germany if it's all the same with you Herr Hauptmann. There's nothing for me in the West., I'll be staying in the Big G."

He then turns to Babicevs, as though a thought has just crossed his mind. "Hang on a second buddy. As I remember correctly isn't Pammie with me? Didn't I let you borrow her after Madge walked out on you?" He grins. "It's fine, who am I to come between you and your lady. You keep her, treat her good. I'll find something else in the armory."

"

Kessler takes the easiest question first. "It applies to dependents." He doesn't really see BND arguing over a few extra places but if it comes down to it he'll swear as a German Army officer that anyone on the list is a Mad Dog. That includes civilian auxiliaries. If it comes down to that he knows an Irish Doctor whose skills Germany could certainly use but that's a private conversation for another time. One that will probably end up with him getting told that he's abandoning Gdansk. But his loyalty is to something larger than the newly establish Free City.

He turns to Rodriguez next. "Yes. To the best of my knowledge Malbork is still Soviet headquarters for all of northern Poland. Which is why this mission is important. Do I think that we'd be ordered on a suicide mission? No, I don't. I think they're asking us because we've proven our capabilities time and again. They probably don't have the manpower to send a full team. And why would they when they think they have people here that can handle the mission?" Germany was, after all, still facing enemies on two fronts.  German Special Operations Forces were overstretched dealing with the Soviets and a considerably better armed and equipped French.

"As for the pullout, I don't have the specifics but I'd imagine it will be sea. The German Baltic coast is a day's  sail from here. Once we're back I would imagine arrangements will be made to try and get you back to United States forces. But I don't know how easy that will be. I'm sorry, Jose, I can't promise you a ticket out of the War. I wish it was that easy but it's not. If you don't want to be returned to US command - or that's not possible - there's a place for you - for everyone - in Fernspähkompanie Dreihundert, Long Range Recon Company Three Hundred. That's my unit and I will fight tooth and nail to keep anyone that wants to stay under my command. You are my people and I will not throw anyone under a bus. But nor am I going to make promises that I can't keep. Germany is at war. Not just with the Soviets but with the French. On that note I will be speaking to Mr Czerny privately to work out how we're going to deal with his situation. If he wants to come."

The German Captain shrugs, raises his hands upwards for a moment. "I'm sorry Jose. I'm trying to be as open as I can but I don't have all of the answers. Not at the moment. Like I said, it's a step closer to home. That's all I can offer just now. Oh, and what I said to Herr Ward about dependents...that applies to everyone. Just in case you were wondering."

Turning then to Babicevs, Ferro, Walsh, and Lines Kessler nods to each of them in turn. "Thank you." Walsh also gets a quietly spoken "Understood." before Kessler goes back to addressing the entire group.

"One more thing...if we do this, we do it as Mad Dogs." The German then raises his left hand to his right shoulder, rips off the Fernspähkompanie Dreihundert badge that's velcor'd to his left shoulder. Beside him Fischer does the same while Kessler reaches into his pocket, takes out two badges, one hi viz, one lo viz, showing the head of a snarling bulldog. "One of our tenants used to be a tattoo artist. I got her to put this together.

He slaps the patch on his shoulder in place of his German Army one while Fischer rises and moves about the room, handing out multiple copies of both the hi viz and lo viz versions to everyone that wants them. "I hope you all like it." He grins. "It was a bastard finding all that velcro."

+2 Unit patches (1 x hi viz, 1 x lo viz)
- many Unit patches

Varis takes the new unit patches from Kessler, looks them over. He's a bit hurt that the Captain decided against the design he submitted- a bulldog humping a bear- but this insignia is still pretty cool, and long overdue. Varis only wishes Major McCarthy could be here to see the unit badge he inspired. He closes his eyes, says a little prayer,

"We miss you, Major. Every time Varis sees this badge, he will remember you."

-

Tosh reaches over and picks up the pair of patches from Kessler, looks at them intently, and smiles.  "Bloody fuck'n good sir!  Like the Musketeers, eh?  All fer one, one fer all!"

Ferro takes two styles of the badge and pockets them. "The run the coast looks fairly simple." Kessler is told. She then tells him of a potential issue. "But it might cross close to Forest City territory, where any patrols they have might be. On one hand things are quiet now. But on the other hand, in darkness and with no warning an accident might happen." Ferro wasn't pushing for the little community to be prewarned of Mad Dog travels in the area though. Her alternative just calls for leaving earlier and bouncing around a little in the vehicle. "But if we give ourselves extra time we can take the Krok off road and keep to the lifeless wastelands. At least for part of the way."

"I can do it. Or someone else." Ferro offers.

Jake nodded, his face relieved when Kessler confirmed that dependents would be eligible for the citizenship deal.  He thought about what it would mean to start over in Germany - he spoke almost none of the language, though it certainly seemed easier than the intricacies of Polish.  Continuing in the German military would mean the absolute basics, like shelter, food, and payment by at least local scrip, would be covered.  It could be dangerous - yes, but that was a given here in Poland, and being a medic, it was as likely as not that he could be assigned to a hospital or military clinic - especially in the first few years while he sorted out his German.

Jake was still uneasy about fully committing without talking to Gosia though. I mean, how do you broach that without a discussion -  "Zarejestrowałem nas, abyśmy mogli mieszkać i pracować w Niemczech, kochanie!"

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I signed us up to live and work in Germany today honey!

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Ward did have enough faith that it would work out to pick up two morale patches, giving the Captain...
'no... Hauptmann... it's Hauptmann.  You might as well start working on this now...' another slight nod.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:09, Mon 29 Jan.