The Invasion of Lodz

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by Hushabye, Feb 27, 2012.

  1. The city had been devastated.

    Planes roared in the sky, the small thin grey outlines were merely small if not harmless figures that seemed to simply loom overhead. The civilians had no idea what was happening when the bombs were released and the streets were consumed in the waves of fire. An evacuation followed, most people grabbing what they could only to retreat and run away as fast as their feet could carry them. Others were not so lucky, either injured or family who were either too old, sick, or afraid to leave it seemed they would simply wait for the end.There were others, those of stronger spirit who defied what may have been 'logical' if only to delay the Nazi onslaught a moment longer.

    Kaska was one of those few individuals.

    She had grown up in Lodz, and from a young age she had learned a variety of disciplines but at the forefront of them was honor. Her father had been in the military for quite some time, and while he had been taken from her by disease from a young age he still had managed to instill some of his better qualities within his only daughter. After her fathers passing, it had been appointed to her brothers to go out and get jobs. And while they served as the 'heads' of the household they as well, perhaps unintentionally helped harden the 'little girl' into a quiet, albeit tough figure. She had begun working shortly after her fifteenth birthday, attending schooling sparingly, and while she was secretly preparing to leave Poland and head towards France for more schooling.. the news of the war came.

    Now it seemed the war was upon their doorstep. The Germans had poured into the city the evening prior and while most of the civilians had been evacuated there were still pockets of resistance everywhere you looked. She stayed back and remained there to fight, along with her two eldest brothers she hoped only to give her mother and friends a larger window to escape the mayhem.


    10:32 September 6, 1939

    Kaska sat silently in the northern most corner of the building, a four story hotel overlooking an intersection that was rumored to be in use by a German infantry patrol. Her, and her two brothers remained scattered in the nearby buildings waiting for the patrol to approach. They had no radios, so the only forms of communication were the positioning of candles in the bottom corner of each window. Late.. they were late.

    Surely enough what looked to be thirty German soldiers began to approach from the north, marching in a loose formation with rifles already drawn. Their objective was to take out any officers that may be present within the group and then to work down from there. They did not expect to massacre the group, only to keep their muzzle flash hidden and convince the German's to retreat and bring back some friends. They would then attempt to rig the street with explosives and then rendezvous back at 'home'. As a signal, she took a wet cloth and tossed it over the candle, notifying her brothers that it was time to act.

    Her rifle was grabbed and the scope carefully was brought up to her eye as she began to examine the targets upon the ground. She was supposed to be hitting the highest, while her brothers went after those with better views on their positions. The group continued to move inward.. that was before three shots all spread out over a few seconds rang out.
    The young officer she had targeted barely had time to react, and what she thought was a spray of his own blood fell upon him in a shower. The only thing that was sickly satisfying and horrifying was the face he made before hitting the ground.

    She was in shock.. watching as The Germans didn't flinch and immediately broke off into smaller groups going right after the snipers.. her brothers. Panic set in as her rifle was raised, the bolt pulled back and a new bullet placed into the chamber she began to shower a group headed away from her with bullets. The majority of them missed, however it did the job of slowing them for a few moments before moving onwards.

    As for the dead German boy, he had been dragged off of the street it seemed, and while she was slowly taking all of this in.. she could already hear the multiple pairs of footsteps echoing from down the hallway.
     
  2. Austria, it was home to many young officers within the Reich. Wilhiem Metzger was just one of them. His family had a lineage of patriotism and warfare, his father had been a lieutenant in the last great war. Wilheim had signed up out of duty, nothing more. He didn't care for the cause of the war, he just fought because his family said he had to. None the less he had quickly proven himself as a competent soldier and officer. The male had been given the rank of sergeant and command of a squad of Wehrmacht scouts. He was nearly accepted into the SS, the only factor keeping him out of the infamous death squads were his hazel eyes. It didn't worry him much, he preferred to be as far from those bastards as he could.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    He had been sent to simply check for survivors and sort them out with paper work and find any who would cause trouble. He had definitely found the first as well as the third of his mission. He hadn't heard the shot, the sheer shock of being hit blacked out everything but the searing pain in his shoulder while the round lifted him off of his feet and nearly head over heels. Hitting the ground with a thud he could feel one of his soldiers grab the back of his dark grey uniform and drag him off into a nearby ally. He was barely conscious, and with no surprise for if the round had been much lower it would have killed him.

    His troops were fast to react, instantly readying weapons and heading to the buildings. Soon enough they were in the doors of each, the heavy sound of boots and commands in German rang out as they assaulted looking for the one who dared to shoot their commander. Soon enough she would hear their angered voices while they kicked open doors, firing in with automatic weapons before moving on. They were in no mood for taking prisoners it seemed. A heavy boot hit her door, the wood withstanding the impact before another flung it open, a group of three soldiers staring in. One had an mp40 the other two with kar98 k's.

    Elsewhere the sounds of fighting echoed from her brother's location, apparently they were holding their own. Within the alley the male shuddered while he was crudely tended to by a private. A whine came from his lips, reaching up with his other hand to grasp at dirty blonde hair in pain as the other worked on tightening a bandage. A tear even formed in the corner of his hazel eyes although he did his best to hide it, trying not to show weakness infront of his squad. The fact that he was blacking out from pain didn't help however. Soon enough with the sound of his men falling he gave the soldier the order to go and try to help the others and leave him. It wasn't long before he passed out, luger in hand, his shoulder bloodied and poorly dressed.
     
  3. As the footsteps began to echo up the hallway and she heard the doors to each room being kicked in only as they moved to the next room, eyes flickered closed and open hand pressed to her chest. The opposite hand lowered to her waist holster, removing her sidearm and aiming it upwards. As the footsteps moved to the outside of the door, it was struck a few times before the hinges gave way and it swung open. Eyes were wide, pistol already aimed as she fired. The bullets came out one after another finding their targets multiple times before sending the two men falling to the ground lifeless. She didn't have enough time to panic, to worry, to freak out. Instead she grabbed her rifle, then tossed her bag over her shoulder. She searched the two Germans, taking their grenades and ammunition though she quickly moved out of the room bounding down the stairs quickly.

    She arrived at the back entrance a few moments later, and while she was ready.. she wasn't sure what to do. Her brothers told her to head back 'home' if any problems would come up.. but she couldn't very well just leave them. In the midst of this inner battle.. eyes lowered to the ground only to see the blood trail of that assumed to be dead officer. Eyes lit up, and after looking around she slowly began to follow it. She moved down the street first, footsteps remaining almost silent before turning down the alleyway. The male's form was seemingly weak, and the blood made her cringe from the smell even from here. Rifle was raised, as she slowly began to circle in towards the figure finger already tightening on the trigger. As she neared, boot flicked out to nudge him in the leg. If he were to open his eyes he would have sadly been witness to the half scared shitless, and half frantic little thing she was toting a big ol' rifle.
     
  4. The boy let a slight groan, his eyes barely open while he leaned against the wall. All he could hear was the sounds of a firefight, the sounds of his men falling. Had he lead his men into a death trap? It seemed like such an innocent neighborhood, who would set up an ambush here? The implications of his failure laid heavy upon his mind, making him fight to remain conscious in hopes that one would come back for him. The pain didn't do much to lull him to sleep either, his shoulder still burning. A small whimper escaped him while he briefly closed his eyes, giving in to the blood loss for a brief moment, muttering something in German while he slipped.

    At the sudden nudge he let a stifled cry, arching himself slightly in agony while he came back to the realm of the waking. Slowly opening his hazel eyes he looked at the girl, his vision blurred for a moment before she finally focus. It made him jump out of shock, the small girl carrying such a large rifle... what was this city using as militia? The orphanage? He tried to lift his luger, a look of defiance crossing his features before it fell to the ground out of a shaking hand. It was obvious he was experiencing the early stages of shock. "Y-you bitch..." He growled out, leaning his head back against the wall and watching her. "Victory for the fatherland..." He muttered expecting her to shoot him dead.
     
  5. Those intense green eyes focused upon his own, facial expression mixed between one of confusion and anger. The rifle remained steadied upon the male and for a few moments she did nothing but aim and stare. His words went unheard upon her ears, obviously she didn't catch his German dialect and she was not so prideful to be offended by something she could not understand. Heart beat began to pound painfully within her chest as a small breathe was exhaled and as the man dropped his gun, her own was slowly lowered and slung around her shoulder.

    She turned his back to him still wordless, pressing her back to the wall and lowering herself to the ground. She grabbed his uninjured shoulder and slung it around her own before slowly trying to stand, hopefully with his assistance. " You need help.. " The words were German, though the face she made wasn't one confident she had said it too correctly. Just why she wasn't attempting to kill him may have crossed her mind, in reality she simply no longer had the stomach for it. She listened to the gunshots still going off, and quickly began walking, and dragging him if she could away from the mayhem.. deep down still scared shit-less for her brother's safety.
     
  6. He was waiting, at one point he was even tempted to ask her why she hadn't killed him yet. As she lowered her gun his lips twitched in apparent annoyance while he leaned his head back against the wall, this time waiting for blood loss to take him. The man was terrified, his heart pounding in his chest but he wouldn't let her see his fear, he couldn't. Hearing her against the wall his eyes took a few moments to turn to look at her, what was this girl trying to do? As she lifted his uninjured shoulder he grit his teeth, struggling to get his legs under him while she moved. "Damn it girl!" He growled in German just before her crudely formatted reply. "Why are you helping me?"

    With another silent groan of pain he was standing, though leaning heavily upon her. He did his best to keep his feet moving as she walked, each step a labour for him. Every muscle ached, his body nearly begging for death simply because of the pain. He continued though, his hand grasping at the girl's arm while he stumbled. "Where are you taking me?" His voice was getting hoarse, his mouth dry, blood loss beginning to take it's toll on his body and mind. It was certain that he wouldn't survive without help.
     
  7. She would have had to half drag the mouthy little shit down the street and at his yelling she would have offered a sharp elbow to his ribcage. It wasn't one intent on causing any damage, she simply needed him to remain quiet. Lips pursed and slowly she began to rack her brain for the word she was seeking. German was obviously not a strong point within her vocabulary so what she said next came off quite rough. " Medic.. you need. " Although it was backwards it was apparent she was not leading him to his death, to the contary it seemed she was more intent to help him if anything. She didn;t quite understand why either, she hated the Germans and what they were doing to her home.. but when it came down to the matter of killing him she was unable to go through with it.

    As she continued to move down the street she noticed how much blood he was losing and realised he would quickly be unconcious. She picked up the pace, his weight becoming more and more apparent upon her shoulders as she drug and helped him move forwards. Eventually they came to the entrance of a small house sitting about two blocks down from the original position. He would have been set down upon the stairway for a moment before she dissapeared inside. Within he would be able to hear multiple voices and then what amounted to shouting between them. Eventually she returned, followed by two young men with simmilar features that could only be family. But before the young man had much time to put any of this together he was being hoisted up and taken inside.

    Within the house it was apparent it was a safehouse of sorts. With thick sturdy walls, and a door with multiple locks not to mention the basement.. it was a good place to hide from the Germans in plain sight. He was taken to the kitchen, and layed out upon the table while an elderly gray haired man set down what looked to be a roll full of tools. The brothers would have gone to grab the young officers arms and hold them down while Kaska did the same to his legs. Her face still looked green almost considering the blood that coated the young man, and herself at this point. Once again they acted quickly, the doctore immidiately cutting the shirt away and digging inside of the wounde to remove the bullet. With no medication to offer, it had to be extremely painful. A splash of white liquor, most likely vodka was applied as pieces of fabric were removed from the nasty gash. And then it would have been stitched up as quickly as he could manage. " Rest.. " Is all she offered at this point.

    ( Go ahead and say he wakes up with new clothing, food, water, ect ect. )
     
  8. ((So, I could have sworn I replied to this...))
    Wilhiem had blacked out once she managed to speak medic, his body completely limp in her arms. He would groan as the bullet was pulled from his body, though he lacked the strength to truly fight the ones holding him down. With the vodka he let a muffled cry come, his eyes opening for a moment before falling shut once more. The pain remained in the back of his mind, even as he drifted back into unconsciousness.

    Hours, days, weeks, he didn't know how long it was before a gasp came from his throat. His working arm reached to grasp at his shoulder only to feel an unfamiliar touch, a different cloth. Opening his eyes he groaned, looking to see the light blue shirt he had been put in, a pair of brown pants upon his legs. "W-where am I?" He groaned as he tried to sit up only to fall back to the bed, clutching at the wound. A low growl came from his stomach, reminding him of the hunger he felt. He hadn't eaten since before he went on the mission that got him shot and by the ache in his guts that had been a while ago. Clutching at the blankets he tried to sit up again and succeeded. Glancing over the room he found a tray of bread on a side table, not caring for who it was meant he grabbed at it, stuffing it down his mouth only to follow it with water.