The group quickly dispersed to get the process of 'getting the hell outa Dodge' in motion. Thomas grabbed the offered maps and travel intel and followed the others out the door. Cecylia quickly found the medical supplies as Fedor backed the CUCV up to the nearest cargo trailer. Thompson did likewise, and backed the M1114 up to a mobile tank of gasoline with a full gauge. Hendrik didn't waste time on introductions, he merely followed the others outside and found a cargo container loaded with munitions and began piling the CUCV's cargo area and seats as quickly as he could. Seamus located a mobile machine shop and managed to bully the portable shop onto the M998's trailer hitch. Carter quickly began offloading medical supplies with Cecylia, the two used what space was available in the HMMWVs.

It was messy. It was disorganized. But, it was done in a hell of a hurry. Which was good because twenty-one minutes into their loading plan a trio of Hind attack helicopters broke over the trees to the west. The heavily armed helicopters were low, skimming the treetops, and moving exceedingly fast. Unleashing a salvo of rockets from the big, drum-like pods under their wings, the helicopters opened the battle by destroying several small positions, scattering over a hundred troops, and exploding a mortar position with a very impressive secondary explosion of ammunition.

Bursts machine gun fire from the various guns on the helicopters sent streams of fire into closer defenders within the camp. A burst of tracer laden 7.62mm bullets stitched across the ground between the CUCV and the M114, literally between Hendrik and Cecylia while the loaded supplies onto those vehicles.

A flare went up in the distance. A forward observation position had spotted the approaching Soviet ground forces. That placed the Soviets somewhere to the northwest, at approximately a kilometer away. That was less than a mile! They all stopped and several unspoken decisions were made in the moment. The body bags of their fallen were rushed to the Graves Registration station, a pair of G.P., Medium tents were tossed on top of the CUCV and quickly lashed down, and prepacked backpacks from a Connex marked with the identifier '22nd SAS only' were strapped to the outside of all three vehicles. No one was truly sure of exactly what all was packed on the trio of vehicles.

But, soon enough the Hinds broke off moments before a salvo of 122mm high explosive shells fell along the road they had driven in on near the outer defenses. More troops fled, more positions were destroyed, and there was another secondary explosion when a lorry's fuel tank ruptured and caught fire. It was time to go.

Fedor got into the CUCV and fired up the truck. By the the time he put the truck into gear the other vehicles' engines were running as well.

(OOC: you are sure you got a lot of ammo, some weapons, a fuel tanker, a portable machine shop, a bit of food and water, some electronics, the communications suite for Cecylia's new intelligence concern, piles of parts and tools, and a dozen prepacked operator resupply units in backpacks for the SAS troops. More detail to come as the game progresses. There isn't room in the vehicles for more gear and only three people in each. And that is using Crisco and a steel shoehorn.)

This wasn't the first time Fedor had exited a facility under fire with a load of someone else's gear and it showed.

He found a route west and put on some speed leading the way and keeping the NATO positions between them and the approaching Pact forces.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:05, Mon 31 Jan 2022.

Tom leapt back into the vehicle, hoping Mike was coming with them, then waited impatiently for someone to start driving, muttering "come on, come ON!"

Seamus swore that he couldn't keep putting up with the same excrement for what seemed like the seventh time this day, got into the M1114 and started it up, following Feodor out of the Hot Zone.

On their own again. And running from trouble again. The convoy moved in a winding path towards Germany. Side roads to avoid bombed out sections of major highways. Back roads to circle towns that seemed to dangerous or were burning.

The day passed until they had traveled well into the night. It was nearly midnight by the time the radio traffic had stopped. By the time they were sure they had escaped the frantic air sorties by Soviet attack helicopters chasing down those fleeing from the last battle in Poland. But, mostly, they had stopped because they were three kilometers inside of Germany.

The church was an old wooden structure with a date carved into the base of the front door of 1934. A long time ago. It was small, boxy, and cold. But it was well out of the way of traffic on the highway or the local back roads.

Fedor stepped out of the vehicle, stretched, and moved over to check out the church.

Seamus stopped the vehicle and grabbed his SMG before opening the door to get out, looking to see if there was anyone around here.

Seamus was walking a slow loop around the church. The old parking lot showed signs of recent rabbit activity; scat, recently chewed grass, and a bit of fur here and there. It was a veritable rabbit breeding party. Well, maybe they could trap a little fresh meat.

Fedor walked up onto the churches stoop. The steps creaked and popped ominously. This place had been lost to time long before the war began. The front doors were chained closed with a chain rusty enough to have been put there by the Nazis, or so it seemed. There was a faint odor of damp rot from inside.

Fedor let his AKM drop on the sling and uncases the big, brown-red stained, RS Axe.

He stepped up and gave the rusty chained door handles a casual whack with the axe.

Tom got out of the vehicle to stretch and keep watch. There was no point him using the top cover position - other than for a better view, but he decided against that for now.

He kept watch - looking away from the building everyone was checking out

ooc
So Fedor & CC in the truck
Mike and Tom in M998
and Seamus and Hendrik in the M114
is that right?

In that order?

Seamus had really liked Bugs Bunny as a kid. So eating him wouldn't be his first choice. But nuclear war hadn't been his first choice either. Once this patrol was done and he got some sleep, he would see if he could get some snares together.

Fedor banged his way into the door. It took surprisingly little effort. Upon stepping into the foyer of the church he had yet another surprise. He fell through the floor and landed on his feet on damp earth leaving him knee deep in the floor. The room beyond was a large open hall with dozens of broken down booths and a pulpit with a toppled over podium. This place had been out of use for a long time.

Seamus was checking the area for some places to place a few rabbit traps. The little patrol had yielded exactly three things; rabbit trails, a backyard full of wild onion, and the kind of peace and quiet that made him think the war hadn't touched the area in years.

Carter was keeping watch. But there was little to watch. In the distance to the south east he could just make out some still standing houses. There was a faint odor of damp earth and pine in the air. This place had been overran several times as the war rage in the previous years. The Polish-German border had experienced some intense fighting in many places during the war. He was sure is he walked out into a field and dug within a few minutes he would find something of the fighting; old shell casings, shrapnel, un-exploded ordnance, a body or ten, drop small arms, etc.

Tom glanced back over his shoulder to see what the others were up to. They could all do with some rest, and he hoped this place checked out good enough for them to use. He moved around a little to loo around it, but staying close to the vehicles, to see how clear a field of view there was around it, ie how close someone could get before they might be spotted.

Seamus moved towards the house with the onions in their garden to see if it was inhabited. While they definitely needed the food, he didn't want to take it from someone from whom it was their only means of avoiding starvation.

It may be war, but he was going to try to keep at least some morality. And if there was someone there, perhaps they could swap?

Fedor expedited free himself by simply smashing the rotten floor around himself with the axe he was already holding.

08:47, Today: Thomas Carter rolled 10 using 1d10.  Recon F Int B.

22:27, Today: Seamus Murphy rolled 5 using 1d10.  Recon F Int B.

Checking the area over it soon became clear that the reason the little church and its attendant ground were left unmolested was the tiny metal sign nailed to the trees warning of air dropped mines, known as Family of Scatterable Mines or FASCAM, in the woods and fields leading up to the church. It was surprising to learn at first, but the mines had been there for sometime. And they hadn't found any of them the hardway yet.

It explained why the place had been left alone. It also meant the church was unlikely to draw attention from the locals. It could even be safe to stay for a few days to rest and recuperate.

Seamus decided that it probably wasn't a good idea to go walking around too much in the dark in any event. He headed back to the vehicle, retracing his previous route and after checking with the others, closed his eyes to get some sleep.

The night had been clear. No clouds, little wind, and a pleasant fifty-six degrees. There were not sounds of gunfire, explosions, or roaring engines. Other than the ones in their dreams. But, they slept well. Guard rotation was easier than usual, the place was just so relaxing.

When morning came around they were feeling better, relieved from the toils of their travels. Coffee and a hot meal at their ease made everyone feel as though the war had finally let them go for the moment. Their last meals had been in the seats of HMMWVs that bore the stench of blood and the bullets hole to blame for it. The sun rose in the eastern sky revealing distant plumes of smoke reminding them that the war was still there.

The little ville built in the remains of the city was coming to life. People attended to small herds or flocks, fetched water and firewood, and generally began to start another day. They could see pens with hogs, sheep, and a few cows. Gardens and small crop bearing fields stood out against the drab landscape of ruined buildings and overgrown yawns.

TOm enjoyed the rest and the more relaxed food.

He looked at the others as they ate and said "Do we wanna hold up here for a day or so and sort our shit out more usefully than we did at the bug out? We might be able to trade some of it for some real eggs or some fresh milk down there before we head off."

"I do not tolk to peoples so good. Something makes them nervous."

"I don't speak German, but there's a decent chance someone round here speaks English," Seamus remarked. "Perhaps my charming Irish accent will make them less nervous. Probably ought to find out who the mayor is in this joint and make first contact. Peacefully of course. They do outnumber us.

He glanced over in the direction of the ville, seeing if he could identify any obvious leader.

Things were going well. No one was shooting at them. The sun was shining on what would be a warm, clear day. And a pair of men were walking, in an obvious fashion, out to meet them. One carried a double barrel shotgun, broke open over his shoulder like a hunter, and the other has a cloth covered basket, it looked like a garden basket at this distance, under one arm. They were in no hurry.

The overhaul of their supplies yielded a lot of bottled water, MREs, batteries, ammunition, weapons, and Cecylia's extensive radio package along with a fuel tanker and a portable machine shop. At best count they had 5.56mm and 7.62mm NATO cartridges to spare. Fedor wished they had more in the way of .50 ammo and spare parts but that was the nature of haste.

Seamus waited until the pair of men were a bit closer and then called out to them in the little German he did know.

"Guten Tag! How are you!"

He waited for their response, making sure that he didn't look threatening in the slightest. It was a good day. Relatively speaking.

"Hallo, hallo." One the men replied back. "Anglo? Are you British?"

He said something to the other man quickly and then turned back to Seamus. The other was suddenly smiling and digging in his pockets to finally pull out a cigarette tin and offered Seamus a hand-rolled cigarette.

Carter saw Seamus chatting to some of the locals and decided to stay on watch, whilst they chatted. The gang still needed to work out what they were going to do here, but that might be determined by how friendly the locals were.

In reply to GM (msg # 26):

"Irish, but let's be honest, none of us are sure if it's still there. We have to just take each day as it comes. Call me Seamus."

He took the cigarette and accepted a match. It wasn't like the tar was going to kill him any quicker than the radiation, that's for sure.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:39, Mon 14 Mar 2022.

He spoke to the other man in German again and the other man suddenly pantomimed drinking from a bottle. Whiskey no less, by the way the man pretended to stagger for a step or two. And then he suddenly said 'Glenfiddich' very clearly.

"Yes, good whiskey." The English speaker said. "I am afraid there is no more Germany. Well, as far as we know anyway. The last military we saw was the passage of a Soviet armor unit moved through town on night several days ago. They were in fight earlier yesterday. To the south about three kilometers or so. Perhaps you have some antibiotics or disinfectants to trade?"

"Should do. What do you have that will be useful for us?"

The whiskey might be useful. Could we use it as fuel?

Seamus wondered about the Soviet armour unit. Definitely something to avoid as they moved on from this place.