The Kaiser is dead. The High Command is dead. The German Army is no more. Perhaps even Germany is no more. The war to end all wars is finally over and you are one of hundreds of thousands left behind with nothing but your gun and your nightmares. So you set out towards the east to see what has become of the world far from the front line. And what has become of the home you left so long ago.
The Last War - A Post World War Dieselpunk Quest
- Thread starter Azel
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The Last War
- Location
- Germany
The Last War
For the first time in five years, the guns fell silent. No more dull roaring artillery fire churning the dirt in the distance. No staccato of machine guns forcing men to hunker down in their trenches and cutting down all those poor sods caught outside of them. You had not been here for all of the war. Not even a fraction of it to be honest, but it was still enough that the absence of its sounds had become stranger than their presence. Now there was only silence. Not even the birds were singing, even though it was spring. Or was it summer already? Were there even birds left after all the shrapnel and poison pounded into the land?
You only vaguely remembered the days when you were…
It was never glorious work, but you were proud of it none the less. When the first Edison Farms came, you were not worried. Some American devilry would never replace proper wheat, or so you thought. Once there were enough of them, your only choice was to volunteer for army. Nobody else needed a man with a strong back and little other skill to his name.
[] [Background] … a factory worker.
Putting together tractors before the war, then tanks and walkers as things were turning sour on the front. Until they had drafted you too. It was now the work of women to make the weapons for the men who fought on the front lines. At least your skill in mechanics came in handy quite often when maintaining your kit.
Living from what you could pilfer from other people's pockets was never easy. As the war dragged on and purses got ever tighter, it became even harder. One day, your luck ran out and you got caught red-handed, leaving you with the choice between prison and the trenches. You were still not sure you had made the right choice.
[] [Background] … a hunter.
Even though you were neither rich, nor noble, you had always made a point of keeping some good relations to those who were. The hunting club got you one draft deferral after another, but as its numbers thinned, so did its influence. The army got you in the end, and even though they kept commending your shooting skills, you never wanted these laurels.
[] [Background] … training for the war.
Endless hours of drills were supposed to prepare you for what was to come. A short and victorious war had been promised by the officers. The first months were hell and so was any month that followed. For a while, you had been transferred back home to serve as an instructor for the draftees, but in the last months, there was no one left to draft and so you were sent back to the trenches.
The dull ache of your ribs helped to lift the haze from your mind. You had been wounded. Right. You couldn't even quite remember how it happened. Something exploded and the next you saw were your comrades trying to dress your wounds while debating where to put you. The field hospital had been burned out weeks earlier after a raid, so they just gave you some morphine and put you in an empty dugout. You were still there, together with many others. The stench was overwhelming, like an abattoir that had not been cleaned in years. There was no telling how long you had lain here, leaned against the earthen wall.
One other person was there with you, hunched over another wounded. You tried to speak, but the first sound came out more as a dry croak that startled the man from his work. "Is it over?"
The other man hesitated before answering. "Soldiers are leaving if that's what you mean."
"It's over," you quietly said, a weight lifting from your tired bones. "We won," you said carefully. You couldn't quite make out the mans uniform and it would be silliest thing to be punished for a lack of patriotism right as the nightmare was finally over.
"Nobody won. We are just leaving."
Dumbstruck you watched as the man turned back to whatever he had been doing before. Nobody except the officers still cared who won, as long as it was over, but someone had to have won for the war to be over. "But the Kaiser…" you stammered out, trying to remember the last missive from Berlin. Every centimetre of German soil would be defended to the last. That's what he had ordered.
"Been dead for months on orders of the High Command." He didn't even look up anymore and as you watched, you noticed he wasn't helping the other man. He was going through the pockets of a dead body. "Now they are all dead too and good riddance I say. Just grab what you can and go home. Or to what's left of it."
Just as he said that, he had finally managed to pry a silver cigarette etui from the dead mans uniform and pocketed it. You glanced around the other bodies just as he did, noticing for the first time that they were all dead. Some had dressed wounds, while others were clearly already dead when they had been tossed here. "Guess you were luckier than your comrades thought," he said. "Better leave before you are as dead as the rest."
As he left, you slowly pulled yourself upwards. Your legs were wobbling as if you hadn't used them for weeks and maybe that was the case, but after a while they kept your upright at least. The ribs still ached though. Out of reflex, your grabbed your helmet and dusted off your uniform. It did absolutely nothing to clean the fabric, which was more pressed dirt than wool at this point. But the officers liked to pretend it helped and would yell at anyone who didn't agree with them. Though it didn't seem to matter anymore what the officers wanted. And yet the habit was hard to break, making your shoulders itch until you cleaned your rank insignia and unit patch too.
Said patch denoted you as a member of the…
Like most other soldiers, you served rifle in hand in the trenches, though you also learned how to operate machine guns and mortars with some degree of skill.
[] [Unit] … 60th Field Artillery Regiment. (Artillery)
You were trained on various mortars and cannons and taught how to maintain them and other equipment. You also know your way around most chemical weapons.
[] [Unit] … 3rd Armoured Cavalry. (Mechanized)
Placed in one of the units operating the newest weapons of the Empire, you learned how to operate and maintain both tanks and walkers.
Besides the fight in close quarters, you also learned how to lay and defuse explosives. Mostly though you learned when to keep your head down.
[] [Unit] … 33rd Penal Battalion. (Penal Soldier)
The army did not take no for an answer. You were barely trained at all and only your quick thinking and some nice words to the officers saved you from dying in a suicidal attack.
[] [Unit] … 16th Assault Company. (Stormtrooper)
You were trained for the heaviest of fighting and to strike deep into and even through the enemy lines. It's a small wonder you survived where most of your comrades did not.
As you stepped out of the dugout, you ducked on instinct, but there was no need anymore. Around you, the trench was empty and as you carefully peered over its rim, you saw no sign of fighting either. Instead, two soldiers casually stood in no-mans-land, arguing with each other as they gathered up some useful kit from a few dead tangled in the wires. There was no sign of the enemy and only a scant few German soldiers either.
It was truly over. When you had imagined this moment, you had expected to cheer. To laugh. You expected it to be joyful occasion. But when the first relief had passed, fear crept back into place. Not the fear of imminent death that had become a steady companion for so long, but fear of the future. Fear for a home that you had left behind and which fate you could not even guess at. 'Go home' the other soldier had said and it was as good a suggestion as any other what to do now.
Carefully, with no small amount of apprehension, did you lift yourself out of the trench and went on your way towards…
They were bringing in supplies by train right until the end, so there might be a way to take on towards a city.
[] [Destination] … the army headquarters.
Command seems to have broken down, but whatever is left is probably organizing how to move the soldiers home.
[] [Destination] … the rear artillery batteries.
Most artillery emplacements still had plenty of horses to move their heavy equipment and the better supplied one even had trucks. Ample ways for you to find some transportation.
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The Journey Begins - Part 1
- Location
- Germany
The Journey Begins - Part 1
It was a slow walk from the trenches. The mud was quite bad, probably a recent rain, and with your side still hurting, you were not that fast in the first place. It left you some time to stitch together your last memories. You had been part of an assault, driving a Spider walker through no-mans-land. It was probably the first sign of the bad luck to follow when you had been assigned to that thing. Not all that much armor and the flamethrower fuel tended to not like getting shot at. Must have been an anti-tank rifle that got you. Anything heavier and you would not haven be able to complain anymore.
In the rear trenches, you took a brief rest and scavenged for some medical supplies and whatever else seemed useful, but it was clear that others had picked the trenches clean already. Not a single soldier was in sight and few dead to be found in the trenches, more officers than rank and file, with most dugouts cleaned out. In one though you could scrounge up some morphine and fresh bandages, so you took some time to tend to your wounds.
The bandages on your right side were almost soaked in blood, but it had all dried by now. Beneath were a few deceptively harmless looking shrapnel wounds all over the left of your ribs. They were red and tender, but at lest the wounds weren't wet. Bad, but not a death sentence just yet. So, you cleaned it up, wrapped yourself in bandages as well as you could and took some of the morphine to dull the pain. It was still a good bit of walking ahead of you.
Before setting out again, you went over the meagre results of your scavenging. Two Lugers, of which only one was in working order, four strips of ammo, a tin of crackers and half a bottle of morphine. In your own pockets, you had only a broken pocket watch and one of your identifying tags. It was strange to notice that the other was missing. The others truly had believed you dead and dumped you with the other corpses.
On the emailed metal only were a few letters 'Maximillian Geißler, Brunowstraße 8, Berlin'. They hadn't bothered printing unit names to the things since the previous year, as units got torn to shreds so fast that people kept getting shuffled around to keep at least some formations with more than bare bones personal. Would they send the other one to your mother as proof that you would not come home? When you father had been drafted and fallen not six months later, they were still sending some nice looking officer to say how dreadfully sorry the Kaiser was about the loss, but word in the trenches was that they did not bother with that anymore. One more reason to get home.
It was almost dusk by the time you reached the artillery post, and it was in just as sorry a state as the trenches. Half the cannons had been blown to pieces; others sunken deep into the mud and still tied with ropes to dead horses that had tried and failed to draw them away. A few soldiers milled around, but most of them were busy with their own affairs. Some were butchering the horses for meat. Others tried to get the few still living ones saddled up or lashed to one of the carts. There were even a few trucks around, though most of them were stuck in the mud too or clearly damaged and broken down.
"You look lost, tanker," one of the soldiers called to you while you were still looking over the trucks. He was leaning on the only one that looked ready to go.
You raised your hand in greeting and walked closer. "I'm looking for a way home. Like everyone else it seems."
"Most are gone already. You are one of the stragglers." As he spoke he drew out a squashed pack of cigarettes and offered you one. "Gefreiter Stadler, 6th Armored Assault Company."
You took both the cigarette and the offered lighter. "Driver Geißler, 3rd Armored Cavalry. Wasn't aware that we had any stormtroopers left here."
"I'm not from this part of the front. Got sent here just today to look after whatever is worth salvaging here."
"The army still exists?" You looked around the field base once more, carefully giving every man there a once-over to make sure it was not an officer, but there was none. "It doesn't look as if there is anyone left giving orders."
"Been out for a while, haven't you?" He gestured with his own cigarette to your bandages. "The army is gone, but not everyone is going home straight away. The Empire is a mess and some of us are organizing to bring some order back."
"What happened? All I know I that some soldier said the Kaiser is dead."
"The Kaiser betrayed us. Betrayed Germany. Tried to surrender, but at least Hindenburg would have none of that. Word is that he got shot in a scuffle when they tried to arrest him, and the High Command kept it under wraps to keep morale up." He shook his head, his gaze levelled at the horizon. "Worked for a while, but once the rumours started up, the rabble got restless and when some traitor blew up the High Command, the army fell apart bit by bit."
Your stomach began to clench. "Do you happen to know what the situation is in Berlin?"
"Not in detail, no. The communists have taken over the city. They put some polish broad in charge and she ordered the prisons and asylums opened. Now criminals and madmen run rampant and are burning the city down bit by bit." He paused briefly and just quietly nodded at your worried gaze. "It's the same all over. Anarchists and communists setting fires and flinging bombs, turning out cities into rubble. King Friedrich August managed to keep order in Dresden, but München is also lost and in Kiel, the Zentrum is even pacting with the red scum."
"We," he continued, "that is the people I joined, are trying to put an end to the anarchy. We are trying to gather enough soldiers and material to pacify the Ruhr and from there we will take back Germany."
"That sounds," you hesitated for moment, but he didn't seem to notice. "Ambitious."
"Somebody has to do it and many hands make easy work. You can join us too if you want. The Freikorps Ludendorff has always room for another tanker. We will clean up Berlin too and once we are done, honest and good Germans like you and me will have a good life again."
"I'll have to think about it."
"Suit yourself," he said and leaned back against the truck. "I'll be here until tomorrow when the other come to take as many cannons and ammo as we can. If you wish to join us, just help us load up the trucks and we will introduce you when we are back at our current camp."
"Thank you, for the news and cigarette."
You took your leave, the news still chilling your blood. Communist uprisings. Fighting in the cities. Just what had become of Germany while you were living day to day on the front? Taking the offer seemed tempting, but the stormtrooper felt almost eager to fight again. That was rarely a good sign. Without really thinking about it, your steps led you to the only other group that seemed to have a working vehicle. They had dragged one of trucks from the muck and had piled a few backpacks onto its bed, but now three of the six were standing around the open motor hatch and quietly argued with each other. Maybe not quite working.
One of the soldiers resting on the bed fixed you with his eyes as you approached, but he kept his rifle down at least. "Good day to you all. Trouble with the motor?"
The arguing stopped and the shortest of the three turned to you. "What is it to you?"
"I'm looking for way to the east. Berlin, if possible."
"You are not with the guy back there, aren't you?" He gestured to the stormtrooper, while the rest tensed up.
"No," you said slowly. "He offered me to join this 'Freikorps', but I'm not a member yet."
They relaxed a bit at that, though the man sitting on the bed kept staring at you none the less. "Good," the short one continued. "We want nothing to do with them. We just want home. Once this thing is running again, we are heading to Coblenz, over the Rhine and then as far as the diesel lasts. If you can get it to run, you can join us."
Which offer do you take?
[] Fix the truck and join the soldiers.
AN: With your background, you have no idea how to ride a horse, so that options is unavailable.
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The Journey Begins – Part 2
- Location
- Germany
The Journey Begins – Part 2
For a moment you considered the offer of the stormtrooper again. The thought of coming home to a burning city laid heavy on your mind, but at the same time, you wanted to come home in the first place. It had not been a day since you left the last army you were forced to join and immediately signing up for another one willingly held little appeal.
"We have a deal," you said to the short man while holding out your hand.
"Glad to hear that, boy," he answered while shaking on it. "Name is Arno and these two are Gottlieb and Heinrich." Both nodded when they names were called, flanking Arno as if they were guarding him. Unlike him, they were tall and bulky and from how closely they resembled each other, they seemed to be brothers.
"Maximillian."
"Alright, Maxi." You glared at him for using that bloody nickname and got only a slight upwards twitch of his lip in response. "Then go ahead and have a look."
They stepped aside and you began to look over the engine. Not one you had ever seen before, but trucks were hardly something fancy. The biggest problem seemed to be that there was more mud than engine. "What about the three on the truck bed? Who are they?"
"Didn't introduce themselves," either Gottlieb or Heinrich ground out.
"We are helping each other. That's all," said Heinrich or Gottlieb.
You merely hummed in response and kept cleaning the engine for a while longer. Once the mud was gone, the problem was quite easy to spot. "Seems the carburettor took some shrapnel. I could patch it up, but I think we should find a good one in one of the other stuck trucks. Can you two check a few for me? This here is the part I need."
The two brothers were off at once, leaving you alone with Arno, who stared at you with an unreadable expression. "There's more to it, isn't there," you asked him straight out.
"The three made a good offer for our aid. Not the talkative sort though."
"Well, and I'm fixing up your truck," you said and wiped your hands on your uniform before leaning against the still broken vehicle.
He stared a while longer before finally smirking. "I like you, Maxi. Fine. They promised us some money if we bring them to the east side of the Rhein at Coblenz. If you ask me, they have something to hide. Maybe they are form a penal unit or something. Don't care though. Mark is Mark."
"Those still worth something?"
"No idea. They are paying in gold though, so that shouldn't be a problem. I'll cut you in for 20 if you get this thing to run and drive us to Coblenz. Just don't get too close to those three. They are twitchy since I asked for proof that they actually got the money."
You just scoffed while starting to remove the busted part. "Not surprising in the least. People seem to be stealing whatever they get their hands on."
"You been out for a while, right? Seem a bit lost."
You mulled what to answer for a moment. Arno didn't seem all that trustworthy, but on the other hand, you were his best way to see his deal go through. "Woke up just today in a dugout. Seems people thought I was already dead, so they tossed me there with the others."
"He. Ain't that true for all of us? It's the 20th of Mai by the way."
It took a while to remember the date of the ill-fated attack. The memory still felt quite fuzzy. "Two and half weeks then," you said more to yourself than to Arno. "I should be dead after so long."
"Probably. Seems you owe someone. I guess they lost track of you when the Frenchmen were gone, and everything went to shambles."
"That's something I was wondering. Where are they?"
"Your guess is as good as mine. One morning, they were just gone. There wasn't much fighting the week before, so it was hard to even notice at first. Even the brass wasn't sure what was going on and that was the first sign for most of us that they were just as clueless as we. Seems we are one of the last stretches that noticed that nobody was calling the shots anymore."
As he spoke you kept staring at the damaged carburettor as if the answer was somewhere in it. It was just a piece of metal though, no matter how much you wished it to be a crystal ball. "None of this makes sense. A war isn't just… stopping."
When you rose from the motor and leaned against the truck, Arno did the same next to you. "Not as if anyone ever explained something to us front pigs. Doesn't matter though. What matters is that you fix that truck, that we reach Coblenz and then all go our own ways, pockets a bit heavier."
That sounded like a fair enough plan for now.
20.5.1919
Fixing the truck turned out to be easy enough with a spare parts and a bit more searching even turned up an extra cannister diesel. You left right that evening, Arno and the brothers urging to not stick around for the stormtroopers comrades to arrive. After a few kilometres driving by moonlight, you reached a small forest. One with actual trees, not just blasted apart stumps rising from the muck, and you made the choice to spend your first night away from the trenches in a small clearing at the roadside.
The three passengers kept to themselves, all of them eyeing the four of you with distrust and even going so far as to sleep in shifts. You were not quite sure if you really trusted everyone around you either, though neither Gottfried nor Heinrich seemed to be the dangerous sort. Not that you learned much about them. The talk around the campfire was just as shallow as the one in the trenches. Boasting about women. Complaining about the food and the weather. The kind of shallow prattling that passed the time without getting unduly attached to someone that might get torn apart by a grenade tomorrow.
There were no grenades in the forest though. Just an owl and a few stars peeking through the leaves above. The quietness was deafening. The air smelled wrong without the sharp stench of cordite lingering everywhere. You did not sleep well that night.
23.5.1919
After two days of careful movement, you were finally close to your goal. There were plenty of other soldiers around on the larger roads, and they left few friends in their wake. Abandoned farmsteads and even entire villages were not uncommon these days as the need for farms had diminished and the draft cleared out those left behind.
But abandoned farms did not set themselves aflame. None of you had an interest in finding out what your former comrades had done, or how much the peasantry would like to take some recompense out of your hide for sharing the uniform, so you stuck to the less travelled paths even if that added some time to the journey. It also cost you more diesel though and soon the reserve was dwindling. And yet worse was the sight when you came close to Coblenz. Smoke was rising from the city.
Armed with a pair of binoculars he had borrowed from your passengers, Arno volunteered to scout ahead, while you were studying the map they too had provided and tried to your best to guess how long the diesel would last. Originally, you had considered to cross over the new at Remagen, reasoning that it was safer than getting close to the city, but now it seemed the fuel wouldn't last that far. The other options were to either drive straight trough Coblenz to the east and cross over the bridge there, or move north instead and try the nearby bridge at Urmitz. Both of those would have left you with enough diesel to cross over and drive a few kilometres more before having to ditch the empty truck. Assuming nothing went wrong.
Of course, it was not that easy. When Arno returned, he reported that he had seen armed men moving through the streets of Coblenz and some smoke rising from fires in the city centre. What was burning, he could not say though. You had a feeling though that it was connected to the soldiers that he had spotted at Urmitz. Well equipped soldiers at that. He had seen one Spider walker standing guard near the village entrance and what he suspected to be a hidden machinegun emplacement right at the bridge itself.
What now?
[] Talk openly with the soldiers in Urmitz and see if you can get passage over the bridge.
[] Approach Coblenz openly and talk with the armed civilians guarding the city.
[] See if you can sneak into Coblenz to find out what is happening there.
AN: Unless otherwise noted, you can always use approval voting when multiple options appeal to you.
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Coblenz – Part 1
- Location
- Germany
Coblenz – Part 1
23.5.1919
As you approached Urmitz, you were forced to admit that walking up to a checkpoint unnerved you. There was no armor between you and what might be an enemy. You were pretty sure any of the foot sloggers would just laugh at that, but you had always been a tanker. The only times you were on a battlefield and not behind a solid sheet of steel was when you had to bail on a damaged vehicle and then you were running away from the people who wanted to shoot you, not towards them.
Arno, who was walking next to you with a rifle slung on his back, seemed far less impressed. For all that you couldn't really imagine the weaselly man on a battlefield, he probably had been in enough charges to have gotten used to the danger. Same for the brothers, probably, but you knew them well enough by now that you did not want them to do the talking for this.
It was curious though that the guard seemed largely indifferent to you. Despite walking down a straight road in broad daylight, he had neither hailed you, nor made any notion to grab his gun. Instead, he was still sitting on the tree stump next to the road, rifle leaned to the nearby fence, and kept eating a bowl of gruel while occasionally glancing at you.
The imposing figure of the Spider was likewise odd as you got closer. The huge iron barrel that made up its hull gleamed in a fresh coat of dull-grey paint and the four spindly legs beneath were lacking the usual nicks and scratches that they inevitably got the moment you went with them into any terrain more difficult than uneven cobblestones. It seemed more like it was waiting for a parade than for a fight, and they didn't even have the motor running.
"Good day," you finally called to the guard once you were already within spitting distance of him.
"Grüß Gott," he replied briefly before noisily scratching the rest of his meal out of the bowl. "You are not from our company, so it would be nice of you to just turn around and be on your way."
"You are not going to let us pass then?"
"Nah. I'm supposed to send you to the Major even, but I'd rather not." He shoved the last spoon full of gruel into his mouth, letting you wait some more for an explanation that made sense. "See, he is quite angry since we got driven out of our fortress and now he wants us to look for any passing soldiers to recruit."
Beside you, Arno chuckled. "And once he has enough men, he will order you to take your fortress back. Which is why you are in no hurry to send us to him."
"See, he knows how it is."
"How did you even lose a fortress? Everything seems peaceful here and I haven't seen any Frenchmen, Tommys or Yankees all the way while driving here from the frontlines."
"Communists," he spat. "And a lot of traitors. The soldiers from the barracks in Coblenz joined with them, saying that the Kaiser is dead and the monarchy can follow for all they care. Looted the palace and set it on fire even. A few from our company joined too and opened the gates of our fortress Franzl, so we had to flee. I think Konstantin fell too."
"Won't matter for long though. Ehrenbreitenstein hasn't fallen and here in Urmitz is the largest Edison Farm this side of the Rhine." He waved his empty gruel bowl around for emphasis. "Give it two weeks, maybe three, and the hunger will make them see sense. Just have to hope the Major doesn't get us into any fights until then."
You quietly winced at the mention of an Edison Farm. The year before you were drafted had everything becoming so expensive that you had to live on nearly nothing but the grey sludge they produced. Even the frontline food was better, if barely.
"We won't bother you much longer then. Just wanted to make sure there will be no misunderstandings when we drive over the bridge."
"That could be a problem. See, me and Wilhelm," he pointed up to the Spider while saying the name, "we would be fine with forgetting that we saw you two, but the Fähnrich in charge of the bridge checkpoint will likely not. He's itching for a promotion."
"Nothing he might want more urgently than that promotion?" Arno tapped his pockets. "I have a few things."
"Nah. This is not the front. You won't get him to budge with a few cigarettes." Thoughtfully, he glanced at the Spider next to you. "There's something I could think of. A bit risky though."
You nodded along. "Can't hurt us to hear you out at least."
"See, when we had to flee, we had to leave a lot of our equipment behind. Rifles and grenades are not so much a problem, but we also left two more Spiders. One has a busted engine, so that won't move any time soon, but the other is combat ready and I would rather not have it show up here. Don't think the communists have anyone who can use it, so it's likely still in the depot north of Coblenz, on the edge of Lützel. If you can steal it, we can come up with some nice lie that gets me and the Fähnrich a promotion, and you can cross the bridge."
"That's quite an ask to be allowed over the Rhein."
"No offense, but you have not much choice. Even if the communists would let you through the city, there are still loyal soldiers on the eastern side who wouldn't let you pass. And it's not like I want you to fight a whole garrison. We have a few of the armbands the reds use to identify each other, and some spare civilian clothes. You can probably walk right up to the Spider and just hop in, or do you think those people would set up a proper guard?"
"Sounds reasonable, doesn't it, Maxi?" Arno nodded towards you as you spoke and after a moment you nodded back. The armbands and clothes would be useful, even if you didn't go along with this insane plan.
What do you plan to do?
[] Try to sneak into the depot at night to steal the Spider.
[] Take the civilian clothes and explore Coblenz. Maybe you can find a better way to cross the Rhein or some diesel for the truck.
[] Forget about this and just try your luck to reach Remagen.
[] Write-In
Who do you take along?
[] Arno
Good Skills: Talking, Sneaking
Bad Skills: Fighting
[] Heinrich
AN: Given that your Negotiate skill is on the lower end of mediocre, the rolls keep coming out pretty decent. Though Arno did a help a bit here and there too. Planvoting please.
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Coblenz – Part 2
- Location
- Germany
Coblenz – Part 2
23.5.1919Unfortunately for you, the communists actually did set up a proper guard. After making the choice to try and steal the Spider, Arno and you had made your way to a small hill near the depot and waited there for night to fall while watching the patrols. The depot was not very large, only three small warehouses surrounded by a thick, earthen wall kept upright by retaining walls of brick. There was only one gate, a sturdy looking metal one at that, and three guards stood there the entire time.
"We can climb in, no problem, but I have no idea how to get out of there without doing something about the guards," Arnos poke next to you while handing you the binoculars. "Could a Spider break down that gate?"
"No, probably not. But we won't have to. The wall is pretty high, but it should be able to get up there."
"And I here thought the name was just about the legs."
"I can't say. We mostly called them by a different nickname and I'd rather not live up to that." As you spoke you kept your eyes on the depot while trying hard to think of anything you were missing. The Spider berths were in the middle one, the guards at the gate were mostly concerned with the road and the one man ambling along the wall should have been easy to evade in the night. It seemed almost easy.
"Still surprised you were so eager for this." The click of a lighter and the smell of a cigarette made you put down the binoculars and look over to Arno. "You don't seem the brave one most of the time."
Maybe you should have been offended, but you just laughed it off. "Maybe. Haven't been charging into no-mans-land on foot like you did for months or years."
"Are you kidding? I didn't see a single trench that wasn't full of Germans. Do I look like I have a death wish?"
"But you were in the infantry. How did you never get ordered to join a charge?"
"Oh, I was ordered to do things quite often, but here is the thing: I always had this strange problem where I would fall into a crater, sprain my ankle, and then crawl back to our own lines a few hours later when nobody was paying attention. Weird how often that happened."
This time your laughter was much heartier. "Should have seen that one coming by now."
24.5.1919
It was around midnight when you decided to try your luck. The guards at the gate had started to play cards with each other and the man patrolling between the warehouses had slowed down. There was probably not going to be a better chance. So, you packed up your things, put on the red armbands just in case, and got moving.
Moving
Arno: Sneaking 8 – 2 (leading a group) -> 6d6 -> 4 6 5 5 6 1 -> 4 Successes
Like ghosts.
Climbing the wall – DC 1
Arno: Climb 5 -> 3 5 4 2 2 -> 1 Success
Maxi: Climb 4 -> 1 2 6 2 -> 1 Success
Not graceful but done.
Arno: Sneaking 8 – 2 (leading a group) -> 6d6 -> 4 6 5 5 6 1 -> 4 Successes
Like ghosts.
Climbing the wall – DC 1
Arno: Climb 5 -> 3 5 4 2 2 -> 1 Success
Maxi: Climb 4 -> 1 2 6 2 -> 1 Success
Not graceful but done.
Arno was leading the way and you followed hot on his hells. Through some hedges near the depot, then sprinting over the open field towards the wall. For a moment the two of you waited, just in case someone had noticed you and came to check, but it remained quiet. Up the wall, hiding briefly in the weeds growing on top, and a careful jump back down, then you were in.
It couldn't have taken much more than a minute or two, but every step of the way felt like it had taken ages. Your heart was beating so hard that you were afraid someone would hear it. Arno on the other hand seemed fully in his element. If anything, he was excited by this whole thing. And a few steps later, you were already at the back door to the warehouse.
Maxi: Luck 4 -> 1 1 3 1 -> 0 Successes
Nope.
Nope.
Through the dirty window in it shone a dull light and you could faintly hear two people arguing with each other.
"Shit," Arno whispered.
"Shit," you agreed equally quietly.
"How fast can you start that walker?"
You stared for a moment, unsure you liked where this was going, but the faint footsteps of the guard echoing in between he warehouses squashed the feeling. "If it's ready to go, very fast."
"Alright," he replied and suddenly stood up.
Before you could get another word in, he boldly opened the door and strode into the room and all you could do is press yourself against the wall and peek into the hall. Within were three berths for Spider walkers, of which one was empty and the walker in the second had some of its armor peeled back to expose the motor. The third looked ready to go though, all pristine grey paint with two red stripes on each side that looked to be a recent addition.
The two men you had heard arguing stood before the broken walker and apparently were in the process of fixing it. Now they had stopped their work and instead turned to Arno. "Hey," he called to them. "What are you doing here in the middle of the night?"
Arno: Negotiate 8 -> 1 4 4 5 3 1 6 5 -> 3 Successes
Mechanics: Perception 7 + 2 (hard sell) -> 1 5 2 1 4 6 1 1 2 -> 2 Successes
Barely buying it.
Maxi: Sneaking 4 -> 6 1 2 5 -> 2 Successes
Mechanics: Perception 7 – 2 (distracted) -> 6 6 5 2 2 -> 3 Successes
Spotted.
Mechanics: Perception 7 + 2 (hard sell) -> 1 5 2 1 4 6 1 1 2 -> 2 Successes
Barely buying it.
Maxi: Sneaking 4 -> 6 1 2 5 -> 2 Successes
Mechanics: Perception 7 – 2 (distracted) -> 6 6 5 2 2 -> 3 Successes
Spotted.
The Luger was already in your hand when Arno reached the two, expecting them to call for the guards any second. Against all odds, they did not. Instead, they started talking and after a moment, he managed to make them look away from your position.
You tried to be quiet as you entered the room. They did not hear you walking on the concrete. They did hear you on the metal steps of the gantry. You ran upwards the stairs as they started shouting and jumped onto the Spider, then down its hatch. There was no time to do this properly. You heard someone running up the gantry and hoped it was Arno. Hand on the clutch lever, you spoke a silent prayer and kicked the starter pedal down.
Quick starting Spider – DC 2
Maxi: Driving (Walkers) 8 -> 4 3 6 2 3 4 2 3 -> 1 Success
Failed.
Try again. – DC 3
Maxi: Driving (Walkers) 8 -> 2 5 5 3 1 1 5 4 -> 3 Success
Success.
Maxi: Driving (Walkers) 8 -> 4 3 6 2 3 4 2 3 -> 1 Success
Failed.
Try again. – DC 3
Maxi: Driving (Walkers) 8 -> 2 5 5 3 1 1 5 4 -> 3 Success
Success.
The engine stuttered and loud bangs of misfires rang through the hull. "No. Don't do this to me." Someone dropped into the hull with you, but you had no time to check who it was. "Come on," you yelled and kicked the starter gain. The engine roared to life. "Yes!"
You threw a glance to your side. Arno was looking at the gunner controls as if they were about to bite him. "Optics before you. Right one is the machine gun," you shouted over the roaring engine as the Spider lurched forward. You needed to be somewhere else, and you needed to be there fast. One of your legs clipped a mechanic, sending him tumbling, while you barreled towards the gate of the warehouse. The thin sheet metal did not even slow you down.
Climbing the wall. – DC 4
Maxi: Driving (Walkers) 8 -> 2 5 6 5 5 3 5 2 -> 5 Successes
Making it look easy.
Maxi: Driving (Walkers) 8 -> 2 5 6 5 5 3 5 2 -> 5 Successes
Making it look easy.
But the gate of the depot was far more solid and so you charged straight at the wall. There was a lot of shouting, and you were certain that Arno's voice was among it. It did not matter. Bullets started to plink against your hull. That did not matter either. Two of your legs lunged upwards and found purchase atop the wall, the momentum carrying the hull upwards as they began to pull. Two steps later and you were down again, charging towards the road.
You ran…
[] … to the fields and trees to lose your pursuers. (Might have to fight off pursuers. Keeps your deal with the soldiers in Urmitz.)
[] … back to the truck. This was your walker now. (Will attempt to cross the Rhein in Remagen instead.)
AN: All things considered, this went pretty well, but the dice definitely are being divas again. Decided to start adding rolls to the updates again, since keeping this completely in the background is probably not the best when I have a rather crunchy system for this quest.
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Newspaper - Coblenzer Generalanzeiger - 19.5.1919
- Location
- Germany
Coblenzer Generalanzeiger - 19.5.1919
An old newspaper that you found in the cargo compartment of the Spider walker you stole from the ammo depot near Coblenz. The authors seem very keen to suck up to the military leadership, though that might be the wartime propaganda.Local News
New Daily Rations
On orders of the Generalmajor von Nottwitz, the rations for the people in the fortress city of Coblenz will be adjusted once more. Shortages are compounded by the vile betrayals of the fatherland perpetrated by communists, pacifists and assorted anti-German scum that this newspaper had to report over the previous weeks.
But this humble reporter would like to remind his readers that they should not despair! Despite the efforts of these traitors, the situation on the western front is promising and soon our beloved Imperial Army will smash through the enemies' lines and end this war once and for all. One last time, we all will tighten our belts, but in just a few more weeks, we shall feast on the spoils of victory! God with us and with our brave soldiers!
[It follows a list of how much basic food an other goods the people of Coblenz are henceforth allowed to buy.]
Consolidation of the Merciful Brothers Hospital
Due to the ongoing staff shortages, it was decreed by Generalmajor von Nottwitz that the remaining staff und supplies of the Merciful Brothers Hospital will be consolidated with the Garrison Hospital. As this means the closure of the last hospital serving civilian patients, the military administration has agreed to allow a limited number of people to be treated there, provided they are of an age that makes them eligible for military service or are currently employed in militarily relevant industries.
The administration asked this newspaper to remind it's readers of the ongoing shortage of medical goods due to the demands of the war and has increased the fines for the fraudulent and malicious procurement of medical services or goods to 500 Mark. Lastly, the Saint Joseph Cathedral has reiterated its offer to render palliative care free of charge for those in need of it.
Archbishop Kranert Chastises Godlessness
In yesterdays mass, the Archbishop of Köln spoke out against the rampant godlessness griping Germany. He chastised liberals for abandoning the ways of the faith, which paved the way for the militant atheism seen among the ranks of the socialists. "The church has been the cornerstone of German culture and identity, long before there were parties and ideologies. Through god, the German Empire came into being, and only through god, it will endure," he closed his mass with, reminding us all that the fatherland can only prosper through the divinely ordained leadership of the monarchy.
German News
Ebert Proclaims Republic – Nobody Listens
After negotiations with the local leadership of the Zentrum party, SPD leader Friedrich Ebert has proclaimed the creation of a German Republic in Kiel. He claims dominion over the entirety of our beloved fatherland for this treasonous political body, but reality is already showing the limits of the mad socialist's grasp. Even in Kiel itself, his own compatriots reject him as the so-called Soldiers and Workers Council made up of Kriegsmarine deserters and agitators refuses to abide by his agreements.
Further away, even his own party renounces his action. In many cities, most notably in Berlin, the SPD has shown its true colours and joined with the most radical and vicious elements of their movement, rejecting both the monarchy and their own leaders. When will the violence and madness end? This reporter can only pray for the health and wellbeing of those Germans suffering under the unleashed red menace. The time will come when these criminals will be given their just retribution!
Hindenburg a Traitor? Ludendorff Promises Leadership
Over the last weeks, some of our readers might have noticed soldiers wandering the countryside. Contrary to treasonous claims of deserters though, these brave men have been recruited by the beloved General and Hero of Tannenberg Erich Ludendorff for a special unit, called the Freikorps Ludendorff. This new unit, made up of some of the best and most skilled soldiers that could be spared from the frontlines, has been formed to finally strike back against the rioters, socialists and anarchists that have plagued parts of Germany in recent times.
Unfortunately, the General is so busy with his many duties that he had no time to entertain questions from reporters, but some officers of the Freikorps have spoken to newspapers in Luxemburg. According to them, the unrest in our fatherland is far from spontaneous, but the result of a secret cabal plotting to weaken our resolve and military might! There are even suspicions that Field Marshall Hindenburg has been quietly aiding such efforts!
This newspaper can sadly not verify such claims, but notes how fast the communist uprisings have spread across our beloved Empire. Can such events truly be coincidence? Or are there truly Free Masons, shadowy bankers and others drawing the strings behind the red traitors? We can only wish General Ludendorff the best in his efforts to unravel such plots and to punish their perpetrators!
Sabotage and Banditry on the Rise
It saddens this reporter to write these lines, but the reports of these incidents show no sign of stopping. Railway lines are being damaged. Telegraph lines cut. Factories burned down. The terrorism perpetrated by so-called pacifists and other anti-German elements continue as our beloved military has to balance the demands of the war with the threats emerging at home. Worse yet, as the movement of goods, people and news is hampered, we hear ever more reports of petty banditry. To imagine that our fatherland has to endure such in this day!
International News
US-President Leonard Wood Chastises Entente
Appalled by the lack of discipline and order in the armies of France and Great Britain, US-President Wood has made it clear that he will not accept his countrymen to have bled in vain due to their incompetence. He also refused to send further aid to the French army currently besieging Paris to take back control from the anarchist rioters that occupy it. "We have given much, and have gotten little in return so far," he said to reporters in Washington.
This echoes earlier comments by the president, where he floated the idea to seize French and British colonies as payment for the loans and war material delivered to these nations by the US. Is the alliance of criminals and butchers finally coming apart as defeat looms? Hopefully the president has not yet set his sights on any one colony in particular, for first pick will be for the German Empire and may the Entente squabble over the crumbs we leave them with!
Victory in San Marino!
In a stunning victory, the forces of our ally Austria-Hungary succeeded in surrounding and reducing the Italian army defending the city of San Marino, leading to the capture of 30,000 Italian soldiers, 3,000 American volunteers and allegedly even the Marshal of Italy, Luigi Cadorna, himself. This great success comes only weeks after the capture of the town of Brescia and there is now feverish speculation among reporters if this is a prelude to the army marching on to the undefended Rome, or if they will instead reinforce the counter-attack on Mailand and the efforts to recapture Trient.
AN: I'd like to emphasize here that views expressed by the characters are not shared by the author, and that many characters have a quite slanted view of reality. Just getting that out of the way, because any press statements from Ludendorff are going to get very wild and decidedly vile from here on out.
Vote is still open. I didn't want to close it early, but might not have time to write in my usual slot, so you got the promised news chapter instead.
Coblenz – Part 3
- Location
- Germany
Coblenz – Part 3
24.5.1919"Say that again."
"I'm keeping it."
Arno just started laughing at that and nearly dropped the newspaper you had found.
"What's so funny about that? This is a perfectly fine walker and I don't see why I should give it away just to be allowed to cross a bridge. If Ludendorffs people can steal an entire artillery battery and the communists in Coblenz a whole fortress, then I can have a walker."
"Stole it fair and square, am I right?"
"Exactly," you huffed.
He snorted in response, but had enough control to not start guffawing again. "I was right. I really like you."
For a while it was quiet, or as quiet as the inside of a walker could get, and you concentrated on driving the Spider through the fields and hedges. There had been an alarm, you were hardly subtle in your departure after all, but you were also fast. The communists had not much time to react. You followed the road for a while, being careful to not leave too obvious tracks by keeping tracks by staying on the cobbles, before you had ducked into a small strip of forest to hide in its cover.
Some search parties had gone out, you had seen their lanterns, though most of them went in the direction of Urmitz. If you had tried to deliver the Spider to the soldiers there, they probably would have found you. They did not expect you to veer towards the hills though. You kept a low profile until you were certain that the search parties had gone back to Coblenz and then waited another hour or so to make sure while checking the cargo compartment for other spoils. It did not disappoint.
Panzerläufer 4 "Spider"
- Right Pintle Mount: MG 08 Heavy Machine Gun with 2,500 rounds of ammo
- Left Pintle Mount: Heavy Flamethrower 17 with 80 litres of flame oil
Sawed-off Shotgun with 32 rounds of buckshot.
4 Stick Hand Grenades
2 Smoke Grenades
- Right Pintle Mount: MG 08 Heavy Machine Gun with 2,500 rounds of ammo
- Left Pintle Mount: Heavy Flamethrower 17 with 80 litres of flame oil
Sawed-off Shotgun with 32 rounds of buckshot.
4 Stick Hand Grenades
2 Smoke Grenades
"As much as I admire your chutzpah for intending to keep this thing," Arno spoke up after a while in a much more sober tone, "don't forget that we had a deal. We need to get over the Rhein to get our money."
"I haven't forgotten about that. There's still the bridge in Remagen and with the amount of fuel we got in the cannisters, we should be able to get as far as Bonn or Köln if we can't cross there either."
He frowned in response. "Let's hope the three won't mind the slight departure from their plan then."
"Remagen isn't all that far. They can walk a bit." At least you were decently certain that they had the ability to walk. The three passengers had done not much except glare at everyone else since you met them. "Any chance you might tell me what is up with them? And why Coblenz?"
"Your guess is as good as mine. I think they are officers who decided to keep their heads down and trade uniforms with a corpse when the soldiers were fed up with following orders. The one of them who actually talked to me once had a haughty accent at least. Doesn't matter though. They are paying and that's what matters right now."
"So, for you it's a matter of greed and nothing more?"
"Man, have you looked around us?" He almost spat the words at you. It was the first time you've heard Arno angry. "Whole country has gone mad. It was bad enough when the Kaiser and the capitalists owned everything and had people point guns at you to keep it that way. Now everyone has a gun and barely more than the clothes on their back."
A sigh escaped him, so loud that you could hear it even over the diesel engine. "Things will get much worse before it gets better again. If it gets better again at all. I'd rather take what I can get without sinking too low myself. Might not have much choice left someday if I don't."
After his outburst, you lapsed back into silence. There was not much to say after this, no matter how much you wanted to gainsay him. You were in the process of stealing a 20 ton war machine and expected to get away with it, all because you thought it might come in handy at some point on your travels. It most likely would.
"I was just thinking what we would do afterwards," you ventured after a while, keen to bury the topic. "After we cross the Rhein I mean. We thought that the truck would run out of fuel and everyone would be on their own way after that, but now we got two vehicles and decent amount of diesel."
It took him a while, but he answered in the end. "If you are looking for a gunner for this, you should stick with Gottlieb. He knows his way around a machine gun at least. The two of them are headed towards Schleswig, I think. You could stick with them until Hannover or so and then go east on your own."
"And you?"
"I have some family in Leipzig. Haven't seen them in a while, but it's a fair bit closer than Brassel. Why do you ask? Uncertain where to go yourself?"
"I was thinking about heading for Siegen next. A lot of industry, but not that big a city, or so I heard. Should be decent odds that I can get some spare parts for the Spider and some more diesel. If we split between it and the truck, we should have just enough fuel to get there with both. We could buy some supplies there before splitting up."
"Sounds like a decent plan. Though we are not over the bridge yet. Let's hope this goes well."
Back at the truck, the brothers and your three passengers were rather nervous when you approached them, even though you had sent Arno ahead to warn them that the incoming walker was friendly. It was nearly dawn and unlike the communists, Heinrich had spotted you approaching just fine. There had been some quiet debate with his brother if they should rather run away, especially since the other three had quietly spoken among each other too.
At least it was a good reminder that it would have been better to leave the area with some hurry, lest the soldiers in Urmitz or the people of Coblenz spot you and decide to take their walker back. With he truck refuelled and Arno driving it, by virtue of him having learned just enough driving from watching you to mostly know what he was doing, you made your way northwards, sticking close to the railway lines.
While you had hoped for an easy crossing, fate had other things in mind. Veering slightly eastwards, creeping along behind the row of hedges at the railway line to be not too obvious, you had just passed the small town of Sinzig when noticing the smoke rising ahead of you, just where Remagen was supposed to be. It was the first sign that something was wrong.
The second greeted you next to the bridge that crossed the small river Ahr. Just as you were about to plow through the hedge to get onto the railway you saw the small group hiding in it. A few women, accompanied by two old men, were cowering in the brambles, staring fearfully at the Spider and the truck that came to a halt behind you. Was this an ambush? The war had a way to make you afraid of anything you did not expect and you had not expected this. But a few tense moments passed and neither side made a move.
Finally, you stood up and opened the hatch, peaking out just far enough to see the people below. "We don't want to hurt you," you called down to them and they gave it as much credence as it was to be expected when someone in a war machine said those words.
None the less, one of the men stood up and dusted off his threadbare suit jacket after he had crawled out of the bush. "We, uhm…" He awkwardly glanced around. "We don't want to hurt you either. Eh, sir."
Unfortunately, you already had a fair idea what the answer would be, though you had to ask none the less. "Why are you hiding in a bush?"
"There has been, uhm… some problems in our village and we wanted to… talk with the mayor in Sinzig. Nothing more… I assure you. Just some good people on the way to their neighbours." He kept tugging on his jacket as he spoke, trying to smooth out wrinkles that weren't there. "You can tell you officers that everything is fine."
Could you trust them? What a silly question. You were sitting in a walker and talking to a few frightened civilians. The paranoia was hardly necessary given how little danger they posed. "We are not with the army. We are all deserters."
A few whispers came out of the bush and the man gasped once before wiping some sweat from his brow. You weren't sure if he felt reassured or alarmed by that proclamation, but he certainly got rather red in the face for some reason. "Tell him," the bush whispered loud enough that you could still understand it just fine on top of the Spider. "Tell him what happened."
The man just gaped a few more times, cycling through a set of facial colours that clashed badly with the suit jacket. Finally, a woman stepped out of the bush and unceremoniously stepped in front of him. "If you are not with the army, you could help us."
"Waldtraud, you can't honestly-," the man tried interject, but the women glared hard enough at him to stop him in his tracks.
"I can and I will," she told him, then turned to you again. "Listen. A group of soldiers has been guarding the bridge next to our village for the last few weeks. They haven't gotten any food delivered in a while, so they started stealing from us to make up for it. But today one of their officers came to us, claimed that we had poisoned some of his men and accused us of hiding food from them."
As she spoke, she became faster and faster and through resolute, you could hear the pain in her voice. "They shot the mayor, claiming he was a traitor or something. And then he went back to the bridge to get all his men. And now they are taking everything and burning the rest. Please. You have this armoured thing. Please. Help us."
She was almost crying by the end, and you could not deny that you felt for her. You had spent the last few days, ever since hearing what had become of Berlin, fearing that your home would be plundered and torched. But a quieter, colder voice was whispering something else. If all the soldiers were away from the bridge, you could cross it without trouble as long as you did not dally unnecessarily.
You looked back to the truck, trying to gauge what the others might be thinking. They were all looking at you as if waiting for an order to be given. For a moment you just started at each other until Arno leaned out of the drivers window and yelled up to you. "We are just a few people with rifles. You are the one with the walker. It's your call."
What was your call?
[] Help the people of Remagen and attack the soldiers.
[] Ignore them and cross the bridge while the soldiers are distracted.
AN: To avoid vote-splitting, all votes to involve yourself will be counted together and if there are specific attack plans, the one with the most votes is picked.
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The Battle of Remagen - Part 1
- Location
- Germany
CW: combat, murder, war crimes
You hated this. The attention. The responsibility. For the last months, you had always kept your head down. If you seemed to eager and patriotic, the officers would give assignments that you were unlikely to return from, and your comrades disliked you for sucking up to the brass. And if you were not eager enough, the officers would try to make an example of you, or even threaten to send you over to a penal battalion if you didn't 'volunteer' for the next suicide mission they had in mind. There was always one over-eager petty officer around that needed warm bodies to grind up for his career.
Not being noticed was easier. You had it down to an art by the end. Always did your tasks no better or worse than anyone else. In battle, you were never the first to retreat, and yet nearly always right on the heels of those who ran first. It was an easy way to get through things. One that made you few friends, but even fewer enemies. It was not that you fancied yourself leadership material, so being one driver among many, seen as reliable, though easily forgotten, had suited you quite well.
And yet, they now wanted you to give the orders. To decide if the motley bunch you had joined should give battle to another military unit. A unit full of your countrymen at that. All that you wanted was a ride home, tell your mother that you were fine and see if you father had made it back too. Was that so much to ask? You had done your part. Had bled and killed for Germany. Snuffed out god knows how many poor sods who also just wanted the war to be over and to go back home.
Looking over the people gathered at the feet of the Spider, you felt as if the whole world was trying to press down on your shoulders. Once more, you were asked to fight a battle that was not yours and this time, there would have been no one else to blame. No officers. No Kaiser. No bomb throwing anarchist somewhere in the Balkans. If you were giving the order, this would be your fight and yours alone. No one to share the blame with when the bodies would be counted. Your throat felt too tight to say a single word.
The woman was still looking up at you, fists balled at her sides and her eyes wide open. If it was because you were letting her wait or to stop the tears from coming, you couldn't tell. All you wanted was to tell her 'no' and yet your throat got ever tighter at the idea so that you could barely breath. The words 'I will not fight on your say-so' were on the tip of your tongue, but you were afraid they would turn into 'I don't care about your home burning' if you were to actually say them out loud. She had a good reason to ask for your help, unlike all the others who had wanted you to kill on their behalf.
"Screw it," the words tumbled from your lips. Blood would not wash away blood, but a few uniformed bandits would not add any new stains to your hands either. "Gottlieb? I need you in here for the weapons. The rest of you follow me on the truck and dismount when we enter the village."
Ignoring the cries and cheers from the civilians, you gazed at the quiet group of three that had accompanied you all the way here. As usual when something happened, they stuck their heads together and hurriedly whispered with each other. They were pretty much just your paying passengers, and you were certain they would take their chance and cross the bridge on foot. But after a long moment, their leader turned to you and nodded.
Five soldiers then and a Spider, against at least a dozen people with god knew what weapons. You've had worse odds.
You continued your path, sticking to the hedges to conceal your approach, but now even more vigilant for any signs of soldiers. There were none, but you did see was ever more smoke coming from the village of Remagen. Beside you, Gottlieb was fidgeting in the gunners seat. He really did no like the cramped Spider. He was the only one with some experience on a machine gun though, so there was not much choice. As you came closer, you could hear a few lone gunshots in the distance.
The bridge itself was almost new, having been opened just half a year prior and named after none other than Ludendorff. The towers flanking it might as well have been fortress bunkers and there were two fighting positions reinforced with sandbags in front of them. But not a single soldier. Just the faint smell of smoke seeping into the Spider and another lone gunshot to the west, towards the village. You did not hesitate when you steered leftwards and accelerated.
It was nearly three hundred meters from the railway bridge to the edges of Remagen. On the front lines, it would have been an eternity. But here, you were not advancing through churned mud and under heavy fire. It was solid, packed dirt and nobody expected you. The diesel engine howled as you kept accelerating. Twenty tons of war machine fell into an even sprint that was half walking and half leaping. The first few houses passed by. Your legs narrowly avoided three dead bodies laying on the road. All in civilian clothes and all having run away from Remagen.
When you had set out to confront these bandits, you had briefly thought about parley, unwilling to shoot at former comrades without trying a different solution first. And then you saw the first of them. Two men throwing a dead man into a house, while two others were pouring lamp oil through one of the windows. Gottlieb did not need an order, the machine gun roaring to life and cutting them all down then and there.
In the rear optics, you saw the truck coming to a halt and the others jumping off. All of them were wearing the red armbands you had gotten in Coblenz. They would probably blame the communists for this attack. As the others swarmed out among the houses, you slowed your advance, careful not to run into an ambush. There was no way anyone had missed the machine gun going off. The Spider marched along the wider road closer to the Rhein, while the others sprinted towards the other road, cover to cover.
Three soldiers came running out of a house right in front of you. Two of them fell to the first salvo while the last one was fast enough to leap into cover behind a pile of logs. It did not help. As you passed him by, Gottlieb got him too. The next two were warned by now, taking cover behind a solid looking wooden cart. Not solid enough though and they died in a storm of bullets and splintered wood.
'It was easy,' you thought quietly as a grenade went off in the distance. There was no terror this time. No fear of a random artillery shell tearing you apart without a warning. No cannons or tanks that could challenge you. To your left, a soldier peeked out behind a tree and unfortunately for him, he was already out of the arc of the machine gun. You grabbed the control for the flamethrower and a moment later the man and his cover were in flames.
Was this why they had done it? There were so many bodies on the road already before you had come to add to them. Had they done this just because it was easy? Because the people of Remagen could not fight back? A soldier peeked out behind a house corner, grenade ready to throw, but Gottlieb hit his arm and the grenade dropped at his own feet. It should have been harder to do this. Yet with every burning building you passed, it became harder and hard to see these men as former comrades. They were the enemy now, even if you wore the same uniform.
A sharp noise rang through the Spider as a bullet scraped over the armor. Something was wrong though. This was not a rifle bullet. The armour rang like a struck bell as a second shot hit you and this time, you could see the steel bulging inwards right before you. "Fuck," you yelled in reflex while looking for the source of the shots. You had come through most of the village already and you could see from here the church on the far side. Behind the sturdy stone pillars of its fence, you spotted them.
Two men, one of them in an officer's uniform, reloading their oversized rifles. Elephant guns. This wasn't good, but at least it was not a proper anti-tank rifle, or you would have been dead. At least one of them knew where to shoot a Spider to make it count. You could still hear faint gunfire from the other street, so the others were still advancing.
What now?
[] Move through the buildings to your left to flank the soldiers fighting the others.
[] Pass through the buildings on your right and try to flank the soldiers at the church.
[] Charge the church. Their guns can't easily penetrate your armor and you can be there quickly.
[] Fall back while giving suppression fire and regroup with the others.
[] Write-In
AN: Those rifles can penetrate your armor on a good attack roll, so whatever you want to try, you should try to resolve this quickly before statistics catch up with you.
The Battle of Remagen - Part 1
24.5.1919You hated this. The attention. The responsibility. For the last months, you had always kept your head down. If you seemed to eager and patriotic, the officers would give assignments that you were unlikely to return from, and your comrades disliked you for sucking up to the brass. And if you were not eager enough, the officers would try to make an example of you, or even threaten to send you over to a penal battalion if you didn't 'volunteer' for the next suicide mission they had in mind. There was always one over-eager petty officer around that needed warm bodies to grind up for his career.
Not being noticed was easier. You had it down to an art by the end. Always did your tasks no better or worse than anyone else. In battle, you were never the first to retreat, and yet nearly always right on the heels of those who ran first. It was an easy way to get through things. One that made you few friends, but even fewer enemies. It was not that you fancied yourself leadership material, so being one driver among many, seen as reliable, though easily forgotten, had suited you quite well.
And yet, they now wanted you to give the orders. To decide if the motley bunch you had joined should give battle to another military unit. A unit full of your countrymen at that. All that you wanted was a ride home, tell your mother that you were fine and see if you father had made it back too. Was that so much to ask? You had done your part. Had bled and killed for Germany. Snuffed out god knows how many poor sods who also just wanted the war to be over and to go back home.
Looking over the people gathered at the feet of the Spider, you felt as if the whole world was trying to press down on your shoulders. Once more, you were asked to fight a battle that was not yours and this time, there would have been no one else to blame. No officers. No Kaiser. No bomb throwing anarchist somewhere in the Balkans. If you were giving the order, this would be your fight and yours alone. No one to share the blame with when the bodies would be counted. Your throat felt too tight to say a single word.
The woman was still looking up at you, fists balled at her sides and her eyes wide open. If it was because you were letting her wait or to stop the tears from coming, you couldn't tell. All you wanted was to tell her 'no' and yet your throat got ever tighter at the idea so that you could barely breath. The words 'I will not fight on your say-so' were on the tip of your tongue, but you were afraid they would turn into 'I don't care about your home burning' if you were to actually say them out loud. She had a good reason to ask for your help, unlike all the others who had wanted you to kill on their behalf.
"Screw it," the words tumbled from your lips. Blood would not wash away blood, but a few uniformed bandits would not add any new stains to your hands either. "Gottlieb? I need you in here for the weapons. The rest of you follow me on the truck and dismount when we enter the village."
Ignoring the cries and cheers from the civilians, you gazed at the quiet group of three that had accompanied you all the way here. As usual when something happened, they stuck their heads together and hurriedly whispered with each other. They were pretty much just your paying passengers, and you were certain they would take their chance and cross the bridge on foot. But after a long moment, their leader turned to you and nodded.
Five soldiers then and a Spider, against at least a dozen people with god knew what weapons. You've had worse odds.
You continued your path, sticking to the hedges to conceal your approach, but now even more vigilant for any signs of soldiers. There were none, but you did see was ever more smoke coming from the village of Remagen. Beside you, Gottlieb was fidgeting in the gunners seat. He really did no like the cramped Spider. He was the only one with some experience on a machine gun though, so there was not much choice. As you came closer, you could hear a few lone gunshots in the distance.
The bridge itself was almost new, having been opened just half a year prior and named after none other than Ludendorff. The towers flanking it might as well have been fortress bunkers and there were two fighting positions reinforced with sandbags in front of them. But not a single soldier. Just the faint smell of smoke seeping into the Spider and another lone gunshot to the west, towards the village. You did not hesitate when you steered leftwards and accelerated.
It was nearly three hundred meters from the railway bridge to the edges of Remagen. On the front lines, it would have been an eternity. But here, you were not advancing through churned mud and under heavy fire. It was solid, packed dirt and nobody expected you. The diesel engine howled as you kept accelerating. Twenty tons of war machine fell into an even sprint that was half walking and half leaping. The first few houses passed by. Your legs narrowly avoided three dead bodies laying on the road. All in civilian clothes and all having run away from Remagen.
When you had set out to confront these bandits, you had briefly thought about parley, unwilling to shoot at former comrades without trying a different solution first. And then you saw the first of them. Two men throwing a dead man into a house, while two others were pouring lamp oil through one of the windows. Gottlieb did not need an order, the machine gun roaring to life and cutting them all down then and there.
In the rear optics, you saw the truck coming to a halt and the others jumping off. All of them were wearing the red armbands you had gotten in Coblenz. They would probably blame the communists for this attack. As the others swarmed out among the houses, you slowed your advance, careful not to run into an ambush. There was no way anyone had missed the machine gun going off. The Spider marched along the wider road closer to the Rhein, while the others sprinted towards the other road, cover to cover.
Three soldiers came running out of a house right in front of you. Two of them fell to the first salvo while the last one was fast enough to leap into cover behind a pile of logs. It did not help. As you passed him by, Gottlieb got him too. The next two were warned by now, taking cover behind a solid looking wooden cart. Not solid enough though and they died in a storm of bullets and splintered wood.
'It was easy,' you thought quietly as a grenade went off in the distance. There was no terror this time. No fear of a random artillery shell tearing you apart without a warning. No cannons or tanks that could challenge you. To your left, a soldier peeked out behind a tree and unfortunately for him, he was already out of the arc of the machine gun. You grabbed the control for the flamethrower and a moment later the man and his cover were in flames.
Was this why they had done it? There were so many bodies on the road already before you had come to add to them. Had they done this just because it was easy? Because the people of Remagen could not fight back? A soldier peeked out behind a house corner, grenade ready to throw, but Gottlieb hit his arm and the grenade dropped at his own feet. It should have been harder to do this. Yet with every burning building you passed, it became harder and hard to see these men as former comrades. They were the enemy now, even if you wore the same uniform.
A sharp noise rang through the Spider as a bullet scraped over the armor. Something was wrong though. This was not a rifle bullet. The armour rang like a struck bell as a second shot hit you and this time, you could see the steel bulging inwards right before you. "Fuck," you yelled in reflex while looking for the source of the shots. You had come through most of the village already and you could see from here the church on the far side. Behind the sturdy stone pillars of its fence, you spotted them.
Two men, one of them in an officer's uniform, reloading their oversized rifles. Elephant guns. This wasn't good, but at least it was not a proper anti-tank rifle, or you would have been dead. At least one of them knew where to shoot a Spider to make it count. You could still hear faint gunfire from the other street, so the others were still advancing.
What now?
[] Move through the buildings to your left to flank the soldiers fighting the others.
[] Charge the church. Their guns can't easily penetrate your armor and you can be there quickly.
[] Fall back while giving suppression fire and regroup with the others.
[] Write-In
AN: Those rifles can penetrate your armor on a good attack roll, so whatever you want to try, you should try to resolve this quickly before statistics catch up with you.
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The Battle of Remagen - Part 2
- Location
- Germany
CW: combat, murder, war crimes
"This thing is bullet-proof, right Max?" Gottlieb was shouting over both the motor and the machine gun as he returned fire at the church. "They can't really hurt us, right?" He sounded almost feverish as he asked. The shots went wide, though at least they fell short and only chipped some cobblestones instead of peppering the church walls.
"Absolutely not," you lied. "Nothing to worry about." The Spider lurched to the left as you yanked the controls mid-step to duck behind a solid looking building. Another shot rang out. The bullet just barely hit and glanced off the armor as you disappeared between the houses.
As you tore through a wooden fence and an empty chicken coop, you glanced to your right for a moment. Gottlieb was staring straight ahead at nothing at all, taking ragged but measured breaths. He didn't look like someone with shell shock in the time you knew him, but the tight innards of the walker seemed to be really getting to him. Good thing you hadn't tried to charge. At least he caught himself as you passed a second house and neared the road again.
In the end, it did not matter. When you moved out onto the other road, the battle was already over. The remaining soldiers saw you coming and decided to run for the fields. One more of them died to a rifle bullet as he ran over the street and Gottlieb claimed another who was too slow to reach the hedges. Then it was silent, save for the roaring of the fires.
While the battle had only lasted a few minutes, if the chaotic rout of the bandits could even be called that, the aftermath took most of the day. Fires had to be put out or at least contained enough that they wouldn't spread. The dead and the wounded had to be recovered. And the living had to somehow do all of that and keep going. The final tally came in at 18 dead soldiers and 14 civilians, though many suspected there were more of the latter that had been burned together with their homes. The officer leading the plunderers was gone and probably at least a dozen men with him from what you later heard from the civilians.
On your side, all lived, but the leader of the three quiet men who traveled with you had taken a bullet to the chest and was being tended to by the other two. They had brought him to the church were most of the people of Remagen had tried to hide when the looting started. It was there where your group met in the evening, both the truck and the Spider parked on the street and loaded with what you had gathered from the dead soldiers and their post at the bridge.
The inside of the church had nearly cleared out by the time you returned to it, most people still being busy digging graves for the dead or trying to sift through the destroyed and ransacked homes while there was still daylight. Likewise, Arno and the brothers were cleaning up the guns you had taken, leaving you to sort out the matter of your passengers. Their leader had been laid down on one of the church pews while the other two guarded him like hawks. The bullet had hit him straight to the sternum, but got stuck there instead of killing him. He would need surgery to survive this. Soon at that.
"Thank you for your help during the fight. I'm sorry one of you got wounded." As you spoke, the two began to look nervous for some reason. "We can take you along on the truck until we find a hospital for him. At least if you want us to."
For a while longer they looked between each other and their leader, who was still passed out from the mix of morphine and blood loss. They seemed to have a wordless argument with each other, until one turned to you and spoke. "Je ne comprends pas ce que vous dites," he said and you did not understand a single word of it.
"You are not German," you said pointlessly.
"Qu'est-ce qu'on fait maintenant? Je ne parle pas allemand non plus," the other spoke in agitated… probably French from what you guessed. It suddenly made a lot of sense why none of them had talked to you unless they absolutely had to.
While you were still puzzling over what to do, someone unexpected came over to you. It was the same man you had met on the railroad tracks, still wearing his ratty jacket that had no acquired some fresh tears and soot. "Can I maybe help you?" He nervously eyed the three men, who were still wearing German infantry uniforms. "I speak some French."
"Certainly. Could you figure out who they are and what they are doing here?" He looked even more alarmed at the question, but you didn't care. You needed to know what was going on.
They spoke for a while, and it was hard to tell who was the most suspicious of whom. Halfway through their talk, the civilian went white as a sheet and began to stammer half the time he tried to get a word out, though he calmed down somewhat after some very angry French and gestures towards the wounded man.
"They are French soldiers," he finally told you in the same tone you would use to announce having found a cannibal in your midst. "But they are deserters too."
"Does being a deserter of the French army make it better or worse?" You only got a blank look in response and quickly went on before he noticed that you were mocking him. "What are they doing here though? And why did they decide to fight?"
"Well, I'm not entirely sure. They say they are here from the second municipality of Paris, though I'm not entirely sure why that is important. The wounded man used to be a diplomat and was sent here to negotiate with some people in Dortmund about aiding each other."
"That's rather vague."
He merely shrugged. "They were only here to guard the other man, so they don't know more either. They were also rather adamant that it was very heroic of him to agree to aid us, but also stupid since he now might die and leave them stranded."
"You can reassure them then. I was just offering to take them to a hospital."
"Does any of your people speak French?"
You did not have to think long about that. Heinrich and Gottlieb definitely did not, and Arno hardly seemed like someone with a higher education either. "I don't think so."
"Then it might be better if we take them along. I was talking with some of the others and while a few of us have family nearby that can take us in, there are too many to find shelter in Sinzig or the surrounding villages. We were thinking about moving to Bonn or Köln. The archbishop has called upon the city to greet refugees with open arms."
"You are abandoning the village?" You couldn't quite keep the accusation out of your voice, no matter how hard you tried. You had just fought for this place. It didn't matter that fleeing was sensible, what with so much of it burned and there being no one who could defend them if the bandits returned. Or some new batch of looters came along.
"We appreciate what you have done for us and yet there was barely a good reason to stay here before all of this. Now…" His words trailed off and he began furtively glancing around, eager to not meet your eye. "I hate to ask even more of you, but would you spare us some of the rifles you captured? The roads are hardly safe these days and though it is not far to Bonn, many would feel safer if we had some means to defend ourselves."
You only gave an non-comittal hum in return and looked at the wounded Frenchman again. He seemed stable enough to make that journey being hauled on some cart. You could just ask for the money promised and be on your way to Siegen as planned. There was no reason to accompany them further. But there was also no reason not to, except your own desire to hurry.
What do you answer?
[] [Weapons] Keep all the rifles and ammo for yourself. Even if they don't come in handy, you can likely still sell them to the right people.
[] [Weapons] Give half of the weapons to the civilians to defend themselves.
[] [Weapons] Leave all the weapons for the people of Remagen. You don't have much use for that many rifles anyway.
What will you destination be?
[] [Destination] Stick to the plan and cross the Rhein. Travel towards Siegen and see if you can find diesel and spare parts there.
[] [Destination] Accompany the civilians to Bonn. They will be well protected and you can help looking for a hospital there.
[] [Destination] Cross the river, but travel to Cöln to bring the Frenchman to the military hospital there.
AN: This was pretty much the boring option that ended the fight then and there, though that also kept the former diplomat from bleeding out. Mind that if you go to Bonn or Köln you will spend too much fuel to go for Siegen without finding some more diesel first. Or you could change plans and travel on towards the Ruhr instead, but that's something to decide once you reached your next destination.
The Battle of Remagen - Part 2
24.5.1919"This thing is bullet-proof, right Max?" Gottlieb was shouting over both the motor and the machine gun as he returned fire at the church. "They can't really hurt us, right?" He sounded almost feverish as he asked. The shots went wide, though at least they fell short and only chipped some cobblestones instead of peppering the church walls.
"Absolutely not," you lied. "Nothing to worry about." The Spider lurched to the left as you yanked the controls mid-step to duck behind a solid looking building. Another shot rang out. The bullet just barely hit and glanced off the armor as you disappeared between the houses.
As you tore through a wooden fence and an empty chicken coop, you glanced to your right for a moment. Gottlieb was staring straight ahead at nothing at all, taking ragged but measured breaths. He didn't look like someone with shell shock in the time you knew him, but the tight innards of the walker seemed to be really getting to him. Good thing you hadn't tried to charge. At least he caught himself as you passed a second house and neared the road again.
In the end, it did not matter. When you moved out onto the other road, the battle was already over. The remaining soldiers saw you coming and decided to run for the fields. One more of them died to a rifle bullet as he ran over the street and Gottlieb claimed another who was too slow to reach the hedges. Then it was silent, save for the roaring of the fires.
While the battle had only lasted a few minutes, if the chaotic rout of the bandits could even be called that, the aftermath took most of the day. Fires had to be put out or at least contained enough that they wouldn't spread. The dead and the wounded had to be recovered. And the living had to somehow do all of that and keep going. The final tally came in at 18 dead soldiers and 14 civilians, though many suspected there were more of the latter that had been burned together with their homes. The officer leading the plunderers was gone and probably at least a dozen men with him from what you later heard from the civilians.
On your side, all lived, but the leader of the three quiet men who traveled with you had taken a bullet to the chest and was being tended to by the other two. They had brought him to the church were most of the people of Remagen had tried to hide when the looting started. It was there where your group met in the evening, both the truck and the Spider parked on the street and loaded with what you had gathered from the dead soldiers and their post at the bridge.
Gained:
24 G98 rifles
310 rounds of rifle ammo
8 Luger P08 pistols
230 rounds of pistol ammo
4 stick grenades
1 canister of diesel
Expended:
280 rounds of machine gun ammo
5 litres of flame oil
24 G98 rifles
310 rounds of rifle ammo
8 Luger P08 pistols
230 rounds of pistol ammo
4 stick grenades
1 canister of diesel
Expended:
280 rounds of machine gun ammo
5 litres of flame oil
The inside of the church had nearly cleared out by the time you returned to it, most people still being busy digging graves for the dead or trying to sift through the destroyed and ransacked homes while there was still daylight. Likewise, Arno and the brothers were cleaning up the guns you had taken, leaving you to sort out the matter of your passengers. Their leader had been laid down on one of the church pews while the other two guarded him like hawks. The bullet had hit him straight to the sternum, but got stuck there instead of killing him. He would need surgery to survive this. Soon at that.
"Thank you for your help during the fight. I'm sorry one of you got wounded." As you spoke, the two began to look nervous for some reason. "We can take you along on the truck until we find a hospital for him. At least if you want us to."
For a while longer they looked between each other and their leader, who was still passed out from the mix of morphine and blood loss. They seemed to have a wordless argument with each other, until one turned to you and spoke. "Je ne comprends pas ce que vous dites," he said and you did not understand a single word of it.
"You are not German," you said pointlessly.
"Qu'est-ce qu'on fait maintenant? Je ne parle pas allemand non plus," the other spoke in agitated… probably French from what you guessed. It suddenly made a lot of sense why none of them had talked to you unless they absolutely had to.
While you were still puzzling over what to do, someone unexpected came over to you. It was the same man you had met on the railroad tracks, still wearing his ratty jacket that had no acquired some fresh tears and soot. "Can I maybe help you?" He nervously eyed the three men, who were still wearing German infantry uniforms. "I speak some French."
"Certainly. Could you figure out who they are and what they are doing here?" He looked even more alarmed at the question, but you didn't care. You needed to know what was going on.
They spoke for a while, and it was hard to tell who was the most suspicious of whom. Halfway through their talk, the civilian went white as a sheet and began to stammer half the time he tried to get a word out, though he calmed down somewhat after some very angry French and gestures towards the wounded man.
"They are French soldiers," he finally told you in the same tone you would use to announce having found a cannibal in your midst. "But they are deserters too."
"Does being a deserter of the French army make it better or worse?" You only got a blank look in response and quickly went on before he noticed that you were mocking him. "What are they doing here though? And why did they decide to fight?"
"Well, I'm not entirely sure. They say they are here from the second municipality of Paris, though I'm not entirely sure why that is important. The wounded man used to be a diplomat and was sent here to negotiate with some people in Dortmund about aiding each other."
"That's rather vague."
He merely shrugged. "They were only here to guard the other man, so they don't know more either. They were also rather adamant that it was very heroic of him to agree to aid us, but also stupid since he now might die and leave them stranded."
"You can reassure them then. I was just offering to take them to a hospital."
"Does any of your people speak French?"
You did not have to think long about that. Heinrich and Gottlieb definitely did not, and Arno hardly seemed like someone with a higher education either. "I don't think so."
"Then it might be better if we take them along. I was talking with some of the others and while a few of us have family nearby that can take us in, there are too many to find shelter in Sinzig or the surrounding villages. We were thinking about moving to Bonn or Köln. The archbishop has called upon the city to greet refugees with open arms."
"You are abandoning the village?" You couldn't quite keep the accusation out of your voice, no matter how hard you tried. You had just fought for this place. It didn't matter that fleeing was sensible, what with so much of it burned and there being no one who could defend them if the bandits returned. Or some new batch of looters came along.
"We appreciate what you have done for us and yet there was barely a good reason to stay here before all of this. Now…" His words trailed off and he began furtively glancing around, eager to not meet your eye. "I hate to ask even more of you, but would you spare us some of the rifles you captured? The roads are hardly safe these days and though it is not far to Bonn, many would feel safer if we had some means to defend ourselves."
You only gave an non-comittal hum in return and looked at the wounded Frenchman again. He seemed stable enough to make that journey being hauled on some cart. You could just ask for the money promised and be on your way to Siegen as planned. There was no reason to accompany them further. But there was also no reason not to, except your own desire to hurry.
What do you answer?
[] [Weapons] Give half of the weapons to the civilians to defend themselves.
What will you destination be?
[] [Destination] Accompany the civilians to Bonn. They will be well protected and you can help looking for a hospital there.
AN: This was pretty much the boring option that ended the fight then and there, though that also kept the former diplomat from bleeding out. Mind that if you go to Bonn or Köln you will spend too much fuel to go for Siegen without finding some more diesel first. Or you could change plans and travel on towards the Ruhr instead, but that's something to decide once you reached your next destination.
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Bonn - Part 1
- Location
- Germany
Bonn - Part 1
25.5.1919It was a warm and sunny day, fit more for summer than spring, and you hated every second of it. Accompanying the people of Remagen to Bonn was the right thing to do and you did not regret making the choice to do so, but it meant being stuck in the Spider for the entire day. It was already stuffy and uncomfortably warm in the thing when it was cool outside. Now though, with the sun beating down on it from the cloudless sky? You were more sweat than man.
You were not quite sure if being alone in the thing was a good or a bad thing. Adding a second person to would have made it even worse, though it would also have meant someone to commiserate with. You had not even asked Gottlieb to accompany you though. He was still rattled from the fight, doubly so after he saw the rends in the armor left by the bullets. If there had been another battle looming, he would probably have agreed to be your gunner again, but you would have rather not forced him into the Spider without a good reason.
So, for most of the day, you were left to stew on your own in every sense of the word. And to fight to stay awake. While you were on the road, you chalked up your inability to sleep properly to the lack of anything resembling a bed. In Remagen though, the grateful villagers had quickly found some spare beds to offer to their saviours. You hadn't slept properly there either. You had probably spent more hours laying awake while trying to fall sleep, tossing and turning all the while, then you had actually slept in the end. If Arno hadn't somehow scrounged up something that passed for coffee, you might have fallen asleep at the controls.
At least nobody had expected you to organize and lead anything while you were dead on your feet. Here too Arno had taken up the slack and coordinated everything with the new, unofficial mayor of Remagen. You still disliked the man, whom you had learned was called Peter van der Vaal, a feeling that was most likely mutual. But the villagers trusted him for some reason and so he had put on a slightly less ragged jacket and a scruffy top-hat and started giving orders.
By late morning, you had moved out. Van der Vaal was riding with Arno in the truck at the head of the refugee trek, the wounded Frenchman and a few wounded or lame villages on the back. Then came the bulk of the villagers, dragging whatever they could in hand carts. They were flanked by the newly proclaimed militia, made up of whoever had a rough idea how to operate a rifle, and led by Heinrich and Gottlieb. You were in the rear, the Spider slowly walking as the end of the column.
Lost:
12 G98 rifles
155 rounds of rifle ammo
4 Luger P08 pistols
115 rounds of pistol ammo
12 G98 rifles
155 rounds of rifle ammo
4 Luger P08 pistols
115 rounds of pistol ammo
Part of you was worried about the looters returning or some other group of bandits deciding the truck followed by some civilians was easy pickings, but as you passed through the first villages, you were glad that you hadn't pressed to lead with the Spider. People were afraid at your approach. Whenever you approached a settlement, you could see people clearing the street when they saw your trek coming. By the time they spotted the armed militia, most hid in their homes. When they saw the Spider, they even closed the windows.
You still remembered how people cheered when the war begun. Everyone thought the soldiers would be home by Christmas and their departure felt more like a victory celebration than anything else. Even towards the end, there was trust and respect. Nobody was giving you flowers when you had departed to the west, but at least there were a few people giving properly nationalistic speeches as families waved off their spouses, sons and fathers, knowing full well by now that they might never return at all. Back then, you already doubted that they would greet you as heroes when, if, you returned home like the speeches said. Now you felt like an invader in your own country.
By afternoon, you reached the town of Godesberg and for the first time you trek came to a halt. From afar you could see a checkpoint on the road that had stopped the truck. There were about a dozen soldiers and a heavy machine gun, making you sweat for an entirely different reason than the heat.
The people manning the machine gun had slunk down behind the sandbags. You glanced around, careful not to move the Spider even a centimetre. Open field to your left. Bushes and a railway embankment to your right. Nothing moved except for the militia shuffling nervously in place. The soldiers kept talking with Arno. Two of them circled the truck and began talking with the people sitting on it. Your heart seemed determined to beat louder than even the diesel engine. There was some shuffling among the soldiers. Someone just waved the truck through.
You had probably aged a year in the brief minutes the whole exchange had taken and another while you waited for the refugee trek to slowly start moving again. By the time you finally passed the checkpoint, the soldiers looked mostly bored by the whole affair and spared the Spider not a second glance. Two more times you would have to stop, once between Godesberg and the village of Friesdorf, and then a final time before entering Bonn proper. Now though, you had some time to observe your surroundings while Arno sorted out whatever the soldiers wanted from him.
Godesberg was a pretty town, or at least it used to be. The outskirts were not farmsteads, but the fancy homes and villas of the well-off, while the centre of town was full of hotels, restaurants and other venues catering to visitors. Many of the villas were overgrown, their lavish gardens abandoned to nature and neglect. The restaurants were closed and the fine hotels had farmers, factory workers and other refugees and poor folk looking from the windows.
Here you were not feared. The Spider was more a curiosity than a threat. Now and then a patrol of soldiers passed by. Some of them even parading around in heavy armor and with light machine guns. There were no signs of battle to be seen and yet it felt as if the whole town was just waiting for one to begin. Maybe there were communists here too and they just had not resorted to violence yet? If so, they kept themselves well hidden instead of agitating to the masses in plain sight. The only people speaking publicly here were some priests that had drawn small crowds as they held public sermons.
But as you went on through Godesberg and the fields separating the town from the city of Bonn, you were left to wonder who was even in charge of this place. Were these soldiers part of Ludendorff's Freikorps? Or was there a new Kaiser? The old newspaper was sparse on the details and the brief chats you had with the people of Remagen were not much more enlightening either.
When you entered Bonn, it at first seemed the same as Godesberg with derelict but once stately houses near the roads. But as you travelled further, it soon began to look much more like a regular city. You passed factories and tenements, and while there were even more soldiers patrolling here, there were also many more regular people around. The shops around you were bakers and tailors, even the odd butcher that was still in business.
It was early evening when you finally reached your destination. On the grounds of a military barracks, a refugee camp had been erected. The whole grounds were filled with tents, some of them sturdy sailcloth from the army, others just improvised from whatever was handy. A mix of soldiers and nuns was waiting at the gates and took care of the civilians while Arno drove the truck to a tent with a red cross on it.
It all took a while though and spending the day in the Spider had been draining. You were half asleep already by the time Heinrich and Gottlieb were showing you the way to a garage that had been set aside for your group. All you could do after turning it off was to ask for the way to a cot and let exhaustion led you to a dreamless sleep.
What do you do next? (Pick 3)
[] Learn more about the people in charge here and what arrangement Arno negotiated with them.
[] Speak with the other refugees in the camp to learn more about the situation in Bonn and the region.
[] The medical staff of the camp can only render first aid. Try to find a proper surgeon at the university to help the wounded Frenchman.
[] Gottlieb and Heinrich want to explore the seedier parts of the city. Join them and try to unwind a bit.
[] Arno apparently has a lead to someone who might buy some of the weapons you plundered. Join him and see if you can turn them into money or buy some other gear.
[] Speak with the leader of the Remagen refugees and help him sort out the future of his people.
[] Explore the city on your own and try to find fuel and spare parts for the Spider and the truck.
AN: It was a busy week and this chapter fought me quite a bit, though we will have some more time here in Bonn, so there will be a bit of a respite from location introduction glut.
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