April 5th, 1945, Kassel. 300 km (187 miles) from Berlin.
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Yesterday, the 80th Infantry division of the US Third Army had won the Battle of Kassel after four days of bitter fighting. Any fool could see that the war was lost for Germany, but they did not surrender. Sure, ever once in a while the Western Allies would encounter a platoon, a company, a regiment or even more troops and after a few obligatory shots were exchanged, the Germans would surrender in droves. But in other places, they'd fight for every inch.

Like Kassel. Home of the Henschel factories, building the infamous Tiger II tanks. No less than 13 tanks had rolled from the assembly lines directly into battle, halting the 80th's advance. And it took tenacious fighting, a lot of artillery to finally and the 318th and 319th infantry divisions to join forces until the German General finally surrendered.

Yet, during all that fighting, the Nazis had found - or at least taken - the time to execute political prisoners, deserters, and others.

Arthur stood above a shallow grave, about a dozen bodies of civilians who had been barely buried next to the wall of a graveyard. Executed by shooting. Somebody had sprayed them with an MP40. Then an officer had added a bullet to the head. He'd seen graves like this before. But rarely had it felt so... pointless. These bodies couldn't have been older than two days, maybe three. They had probably heard the Americans shooting, felt the tremors of the artillery barrages when they met their end.

He looked at his watch. It was time for the meeting. He turned around, heading towards the Renthof - an old medieval hotel no serving as Army headquarters. There, he would learn more about the mission OSI would send him on.

---

Ralph had been to many islands in the Pacific. Cratered by artillery, bombs, scorched by flame throwser, drowning in blood.. and worse.
It had been, what, four weeks now that he'd been in Europe and he still wasn't used to it. Many of these islands had been tiny specks with no civilian population. The slaughter had been relentless and horrible. But here... he could see civilians living in these ruins. The devastation he had seen in France, in Holland and now here... how could a country ever come back from this?
And not just the physical devastation, the moral devastation was probably worse. He watched as three army guy cut down a man hanged from a lamp post. A large board had been hung on a string around his neck.
"I STOLE BREAD" it said, in large bold letters, in German, obviously. Someone had translated it for him. It wasn't the only dead body hanging from a lamp post. "I DESERTED" another one read. "I LISTENED TO ENEMY RADIO" was maybe the most gut-wrenching one.

He flicked his cigarette away and walked back towards the Renthof. It was time to get his marching orders.
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:21, Wed 08 July 2020.

Ralph found himself at odds with where he was. After reporting that some of the Japs he killed on Peleliu had black eyes and were tough as hell to kill, he was initially diagnosed with Battle Fatigue by the battalion surgeon then put on a hospital ship. On the hospital ship things didn’t get much better as most all of the psychiatrists didn’t believe his story and told he was just wary of fighting and would be sent back to the states on a medical discharge.

But there was one psychiatrist who Ralph thought wasn’t a psychiatrist and called the man out. “You ain’t no psychiatrist, who the fuck you working for.” This turned into a rather long conversation where Ralph was informed that he didn’t have Battle Fatigue and the black-eyed Japs were supernatural beings. “You mean like magical shit from a comic books?” The man further explained that as a yes, but this was for real, and that the Axis Powers were turning to the occult to turn the tide of the war. The man explained he was from the Office of Supernatural Investigations (OSI), and was essentially recruiting Ralph. “Well I’m in if I don’t get medially discharged for  some bullshit Battle Fatigue.”

Four weeks later, Ralph was in the European Theater of Operation (ETO), and as a Marine stuck out like a sore thumb among all the US Army doggie soldiers. His cover for being in the ETO was simple, tell the US Army troops how nasty the Japs were as it was expected that the US Army would have to ship troops to the Pacific for the eventual invasion of Japan. Of course, he was told not to talk about any black-eyed Japs who refused to die after getting stabbed multiple times with a K-Bar....

---

Ralph entered the medieval hotel. Some of the US Army HQ staff present just looked at him and ignored him.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:19, Thu 09 July 2020.

Arthur looked down at the dead in the pit he freely allowed the tears to run down his cheeks.
He understood war enough to know the majority of the German army were just fighting for their country as most of the allied army was but this was a whole new level of evil.

Soldiers fought other soldiers that was war but to kill innocent people just because you were loosing the war took monsters, monsters who enjoyed what they did.

This was what had convinced him to to join this new unit.... Someone had to stop this madness

Turning away from the dead he made his way towards the hotel.

Entering the cool darker interior he headed for the room designated for the meeting

The meeting took place on the uppermost floor in the Eastern wing of the Renthof hotel, in what must have been a luxury suite back in the days but was now stripped bare, with benches put down on the floor.

The roof had mostly survived the bombings, but there were a couple of strategically placed buckets to catch water in the event of rainfall.

When Arthur arrived last, there were about two dozen men in the room, spread out across the benches, a mix of British and American soldiers.

Two MPs were ushered out by Colonel Solomon, closing the door behind them. Everybody shuffled to take a seat, with Solomon waiting for the commotion to quiet down.

"Gentlemen, now that Staff Sergeant Randel has found the time to grace us with his presence, I think it's time we an begin. Needless to say, everything that is said from here on out is top secret."

He paused, for emphasis. "For any of you who haven't met me, I'm Colonel Solomon, and I'm the head of OSI field operations in this little corner of the world. I would like to introduce you to Operation Baskerville. This team have been put together for one hopefully last mission behind enemy lines. You'll also be behind friendly lines, which may not be as friendly as... ah, I'm getting ahead of myself."

He drew the men's attention to a large map of the region around Berlin, with red flags marking the main Soviet armies in the vicinity. They were pretty close to the Nazi's capital. Twice as far away: blue flags for the Western Allies.
"The Nazis, especially the SS, show no sign of giving up. Allied Command will leave Berlin to the Russians. It going to be a brutal fight."

He turned around, facing the men again. "And you'll be right in the middle of it. The Nazis have run a secret operation that we don't know much about, but they have done so at least since 1942, under the codename "Sonderkommando N". We don't know what the N stands for, but it's likely not standing for Niceties."

That drew a chuckle from some of the Brits, but the Americans staid all quiet and intensly focused.
Solomon raised an eyebrow. "Tough crowd, eh? Well, nevermind. Your mission is two-fold: We've had intelligence that the head of Sonderkommando N, one Franz Kemmel of the SS is in Berlin, overlooking the final stages of the project. You will capture him. Take him alive if at all possible. Randel - I'm counting on you to keep him alive if he's wounded. Alive is good enough, he doesn't need to be comfortable.
Second: You will extract a spy that has lived right under the nose of the Nazis for the last 5 years or so. She will be able to identify Kemmel on sight. We unfortunately don't have a picture of him. She's a nurse in a makeshift field lazarett about here."
He tapped at a point in Western Berlin. "Near or in the Olympic Stadium. Please make sure she's well, she has risked and endured an awful lot."

He sighed and pointed at the red flags. "Now, the complication. The Red Army will begin their assault on Berlin within the next few days. To prevent them from shooting you, you'll be given a codeword. And let's hope they pass it down the chain of command. Do not open fire on the Russians. We don't want to encourage Uncle Joe's boys to keep marching to Paris."

He looks at his watch.
"Timeline: We're still preparing how to get you there. Elements of the Third Army will secure an airfield close to Berlin and we'll fly you in. That should be done within the next week. Then you take a leisurely stroll towards Berlin, get our girl, take Kemmel and any intelligence you may find on this Sonderkommando, tip your hat to the Russians and be back in time for tea."

He smiled and clasped his hands behind his back. "Any questions?"
This message was last edited by the player at 12:14, Fri 10 July 2020.

"sir this kemmel gent do we know anything about him at all, I assume being in the SS he'll be physically fit so I'll probably not have to deal with pre-existing illnesses so I'll take my standard kit."

He thought for a moment " if we get him out and any information on this project of his what's to stop our red friends taking it off us? "

" oh and lastly while I'm keeping kemmel alive who's going to be keeping me in one piece " he added the last bit with a slight smile on his lips

Ralph looked around and found himself to be the only U.S. Marine present. Well nobody appeared to be wearing a Marine uniform. As he listens to the briefing there is a look of surprise that they would be going to Berlin to capture a high ranking Nazi. But at least they weren't being sent in to kill Hitler and bring back his mustache.

Ralph rattled off his own set of questions.

"What's the code word we are supposed to give to the Soviets?"

"Do we have a picture of the nurse or at least a name?"

"We going in with allied weapons, Nazi weapons or Soviet weapons?"

"What's the story we give to any Soviets we run into?"

"Don't give your squad members any trouble and I'm sure they'll keep an eye on you, to. As far as we know, the Russians are not aware of Sonderkommando N. Kemmel is - all things considered - not that high in the hierarchy of the Reich. We have reports of Hitler himself being in Berlin. That should be the bigger price for Stalin."

"Ah, very good. The code word to use is 'Aktjobre'. It's Russian for October. The name of the nurse you're looking for is Lena Vogt. At least, that's the name she'll be using. To make sure you're not bringing an imposter, one of you will be asking her "Would you like a cigarette?" To which she will reply: "I would rather have some bubble gum."
Remember that."



"You'll carry your standard issue guns. The Germans are low on ammunition anyway and Russians should be able to do your fighting for you. If they want to know why you're looking for Kemmel: He's wanted for war crimes committed in Norway. That has the added benefit of being true."

Ralph nodded in response to his questions being answered and made a mental note to himself to ask for M1911. Then another question came to mind.

“How much explosives will we be cleared to take with us? With Berlin bombed to shit and to avoid the enemy, we might want have the option to demo a few walls here and there.”

Randel smiled at the answer and kept it in mind to not upset his squad.

He allowed his fellow soldier Jenden to ask the more military orientated questions while he went over things in his mind

"Sir if the priority is to retrieve this German alive if possible is there a sedative of some sort I can be authorised to take that would make him more compliant if he decides to resist"

Solomon Scratched his head.
"That is an excellent question. As much as you can carry, I'd say. You'll also have the option of taking a Panzerfaust off of the Twelve-Year-olds you'll encounter."

He looked at the room. "That is not a joke, by the way. We have seen these... "Volkssturm" units elsewhere. The Germans are scrapping the barrel, manpower-wise and they're throwing everything into the meat grinder. Including old men and children."

"Yes, yes, of course, that's not going to be a problem. Be aware you'll have to carry him, then. It might be easiert so just use your rifles as the main argument of why he might want to walk."

Randel could think of nothing else to ask so he held back and waited for the briefing to finish.

He could then equip himself with what he needed and ready himself for the mission

This thread is closed Continue on to Chapter 1

((Reopening, to give Julius some back-end story.))

As the soldiers start to file out after the end of the mission briefing, Solomon motions at one fellow: "Sykes, stay for a minute, would you?"

A minute later, there are only three men left in the room. Sykes, Solomon, and another man in a US Air Force uniform without rank insignia or name tag. Sykes realizes that the man had been sitting behind him during the briefing, but was never addressed, introduced or even acknowledged.

Now, he takes position next to Solomon, leaning against the desk. For an instant, this feels like Sykes being called into the principal's office for cheating on his exams.
This message was last edited by the GM at 07:50, Wed 17 Feb 2021.

Julius had sat quietly during the meeting. Wearing trousers, shirt and tank top, he took notes as Colonel Solomon explained the mission.

Nothing described seemed like it would require Julius' specialist knowledge, and was surprised that he was even called into it.

But then when he is asked to stay behind, he suddenly thinks there may be more to this than was first suggested. Maybe something the others don't need to know, or would simply distract them.

"Colonel?" He says, in his posh, British accent, curious as to why he is here, and who the other person is.

Solomon seemingly doesn't bother with an introduction.

"We don't have a lot of intel on this Kemmel guy. But, he seems to have gotten around quite a bit. He has a habit of disappearing for months without an indication of his whereabouts. He was sighted in Norway and we believe he was involved with some undercover activities in Iraq. He's in the Waffen-SS, but we don't know which unit or regiment he's attached to. He seems to be solely responsible for this... "Sonderkommando". Which indicates he's a highly skilled individual. But he's far less of a flamboyant character likes this Skorzeny fellow."

The Airforce officer interrupts. "We think he's the head of the Nazi mages."

Solomon shoots the other man an irritated look. "I was building up to that."
The officer shrugs.

"He might be that. He might also be 'just' a mass murderer. There is a decent chance he is both. You have been on the team to be on the lookout for any signs that he is, indeed, a mage. There is no point in trying to risk the men's lives then and they'll be ordered to take him out.
Major Lewis and Captain Jackson have been briefed accordingly. They will rely on your counsel to identify him as such."


"Do you have any questions?"

"Head mage?" He says to himself, stroking his chin as he ponders that it means he could be out of his depth, and that he regretted not learning spells to detect magic, or help shield from it.

When asked if he has questions, Julius replies. "If he is the head of their mages, then he will know so much. It also means he may have books or relics that could be of tremendous benefit to us. Hitler has been rounding up every occult thing he can get his hand on, whether it's real or not. Colonel, we need to bring him in alive."

Solomon looks as he took a bite out of a lemon. The American smiles.

"There are some things that may be better dead and forgotten, Sykes." He looks at the American.
Sykes takes a moment to study the stranger a bit more closely. He seems to be around the same age as the Colonel and exudes an air of confidence often found in fighter pilots. He has brown eyes and hair.
He shrugs.
"Colonel Solomon is right. You bring up a valid point, but we have to consider the lives of our men, too. We have no idea about what his capabilities are - if he does indeed have any."

"Ultimately, we will trust the judgment of the commanders in the field. If Kemmel can be taken alive, without needlessly risking the lives of the men under their command, they certainly have the authority to make that call."

"There should be a bunch of Russians around that could be risked, anyhow."
Solomon slightly shakes his head and rolls his eyes without commenting further.

Instead, he continues: "As I stated: Lewis and Jackson will have to rely on you for intel. You are to observe and assess. Do not try to take this man on by yourself."

Julius nods in agreement with the colonel. "Observe and assess, yes sir."

He knows he would never try and take on Kemmel alone. Who knows what shortcuts to power the Nazis have taken when it comes to learning magic, what sacrifices to their soul and sanity they have taken.

Looking at them, he asks "Anything else Colonel?"

"Yes, just one last thing."

He scribbles something on a piece of paper, folds it and hands it to him.
"We can have you running around in civilian clothing. You're likely to be taken for a spy and shot. Go downstairs, look for Sergeant Rafferty. He'll provide you with a uniform and some equipment.
You are not formally a member of His Majesty's Expeditionary Force, but I will remind you that you are under the command of Major Lewis and Captain Jackson. This is for your own protection. Understood?"

Taking the piece of paper, he again nods in agreement. "Understood, Colonel. I'm keen to avoid being shot if I can help it. I'll speak to Sergeant Rafferty and get my uniform."

Still unsure how best to end a conversation, as saluting doesn't feel right when he talks with officers, he gives a half hearted wave, before leaving the room, and heading to Sergeant Rafferty for his new uniform.

Rafferty, the quartermaster sergeant, hands you a private's British army infantry uniform and an Enfield No. 2 revolver, complete with belt and holster and a box of 50 bullets.

Range 12/24/48
Damage 2d6–1
RoF 1

Then he looks you up and down. "You're not much of a shooter, son, are ye?" He scratches his forehead. "A rifle will take yer shoulder clean off. Want a Sten or a shotgun?"

Taking the uniform and pistol, Julius thinks on which he would rather have. "Erm... shotgun? Shotgun. If I need to use it, hopefully it will mean I might hit something."

He had learnt to shoot since he had been supporting in the war. But all that meant was that he had practiced a few times shooting at some targets. He isn't sure how good he will be when his life depends on it, however.

Browning Automatic (12g)
Range: 12/24/48
Damage: 1–3d6
RoF: 1
Shots: 6M

Rafferty shrugs and responds: "Your funeral."
But you get the sense that's a rather common response of his.