Secrets of the War RPG

Clank clank growl!!!
The V8 engine growled as the platoon of men rumbled through the forest.The Sherman must've been the loudest damn thing in the forest at this time of night.
"Where are we going?" One of the platoon asked.
"Just keep 'er moving!" Patton shouted in reply.
The Section of the platoon that was kneeling on the rear of the tank were just waiting for the right moment to jump off the tank so they could find something to do.I mean seriously, they looked like they would even mess with a rattlesnake like back in Texas just to do something.And they hated being only able to mess with a rattlesnake and not something that puts up a fight.Like a German...

Somewhere amongst the trees of rural Germany loomed a shadowy, vegetation-covered, bunker-like building that gave the ragged impression of a structure built in a hurry. It was a small laboratory, made of an odd combination of stone, steel, wood and even thick walls of deep brown earth where part of it actually blended into the inclined side of one of many small hills in the gently undulating landscape. Not a ray of light or a breath of life came from within the unnervingly silent, windowless building, which at first glance could have been mistaken as abandoned. The only life outside the mysterious bunker was curled up under a makeshift cover of dying leaves a few yards up the hill behind the lab, cradling a submachine gun in his stiff arms. The lone soldier had been lying there for hours, watching and listening to the forest around him, which he noticed was starting to get a bit cold now that the sun was nearly down. Hoping his replacement would be sent out soon to relieve him, he shifted slightly into a moderately comfortable position, then suddenly froze. Was that an engine he heard? It didn't sound like any of the aircraft that occasionally flew within earshot of the lab, and couldn't be a supply truck, since there were no roads leading to the secret outpost. Squinting out into the gathering darkness, the soldier simply watched, listened and waited...

Inside a soundproof room within the bunker, things were much more lively. A pair of soldiers stood guard over a motley collection of loudly buzzing machines connected to tall vats, dozens of rubber tubes containing various burbling neon liquids criss-crossing all over the room, some disappearing down through the solid earthen floor. Two scientists in heavily stained lab coats were working furiously, the older of the pair clearly running the operation. Wolfram Falke, his face and messy blond hair streaked with some sort of chemical that turned parts of it green, darted around the lab, barking out orders and working controls like a madman - which was exactly what most of his colleagues thought he was. Nobody had ever taken his 'crazy' visions seriously, and after months of being alternately mocked and ignored, Doctor Falke had had enough, which was why he now conducted his research in secret. When he had been unable to get permission from his superiors to go forward with his experiment, he had been forced to fake his own death and flee to the countryside.

Suddenly, the scientist froze, seeing that what he was trying to do wasn't going at all to plan, and waved wildly at his assistant, letting loose a torrent of new instructions in fast, sharp German, bolting over to a large flashing panel and flipping switches frantically in an effort to save the experiment. He hissed an inscrutable sequence of equations under his breath as he worked, watching the needles on a row of gauges bounce erratically for a few moments before steadily dropping to zero. "NEIN!" He wailed, flinging his black-gloved hands into the air hopelessly, his expression one of devastation. As his arms slowly dropped, the scientist leaned despondently against the cold surface of the softly humming machine, thinking of all the effort he had put into this latest creation in the past two weeks - how it was all wasted now...

The platoon of soldiers and the M4 Sherman they were riding came to a halt. Patton commanded with his high, almost squeaky voice,"Two of you go scout up ahead.I see some sort of bunker up ahead over this bush..."One of Pattons' eyes rolled over and looked the opposite way as the other. The platoon stared at Patton, then began to fight over who should go. Patton's stars on his helmet, collar, and shirt sleeve caught everyone's attention as Patton whipped out his two ivory handel handguns.
"Stop fighting or i shoot."
Everyone froze in mid punch or hit.
"I will choose who goes up and who stays.If you think of complaining, i've got a nice barrel you could make your last wishes to."
Patton eyed all the eager faces.
"You two."
'Yes!' The two yelled simotainiously. The two men chosen picked up their rifels and headed up away from the sherman cautiosly.

The lone soldier stayed perfectly silent, his eyes flicking to a spot in the trees where he could see flashes of movement through the leaves. Slowly turning his submachine gun to point at the disturbance, he waited until the foliage thinned enough to get a good look at the two soldiers, both wearing olive uniforms, before he began to squeeze the trigger in a succession of quick bursts, the ground around the pair of Americans erupting in tiny explosions of dirt and grass as bullets rained down at them from the side of the hill...

Puff! Puff! Puff! Tiny explosions tore up chunks of dirt on the two soldiers who had been scouting for the rest of the troops. The two soldiers shouted 'Under attack!!!' While racing for the bunker that loomed over them like a mountain of misery and darkness... The soldiers slammed their backs against the bunker door. A huge door. The soldiers ignored the door and slowly advanced toward the top of the bunker-a dirt hill.

The soldiers down at the Sherman stared wide eyed as the bunker began to come to life. Machine gun fire blazed from on the hill that seemed to conect to the steel building. One man took out his rifel and began to aim for the edge of the tiny buch the machine gun fire was coming out of-about were the leg would be.

As the two soldiers ran for cover, the concealed German ceased fire, suddenly wishing he had brought a few more clips of ammunition with him. He glanced in the direction they had come from, thinking he saw the metal hide of a large vehicle of some kind through the darkening forest, though he couldn't see much more than that. The soldier was oblivious to the aiming rifleman as he turned his attention back to the two Americans who he knew were hiding somewhere in the black mass of shadow that surrounded the foreboding bunker...

The two soldiers that had been scouting for the platoon now faced a problem-a German. The two peeked cautiosly around the corner of the curved rooftop. Suddenly, a loud BANG sound filled the air... The two continued their search for the sorce of the gun-fire...

As the rifelman took careful aim, he was interupted by a tap on the shoulder. He looked up to see Patton glazing down on him. "Sir?" Patton handed him a semi-automatic browning long barreled rifel that had Patton's initials carved onto the butt of it. "Use this." Patton told the soldier. This may have delayed the shot, but it gave the soldier a hint of pride as he again took careful aim for the edge of the bush on the hill that had given fire upon his platoon-mates...

The lone German's body suddenly jerked violently as the unsuspecting soldier was hit by a surge of stinging agony. He couldn't stop himself from letting out a hoarse cry, his gun falling the short distance to the ground as he dropped it and rolled onto his side, grabbing at his throbbing leg. Gritting his teeth and briefly squeezing his eyes shut against the pain, he felt around just below his knee with trembling hands, fingers touching an oozing stream of hot blood beneath a jagged hole ripped into the fabric of his pant leg. Breathing in short, ragged gasps, the soldier rolled painfully to his previous position and tried to prop himself back up on his elbows and hoist up the submachine gun again, finding his badly shaking, blood-coated hands slippery on the smooth weapon. He knew without looking at the damage that the bullet had gone right through his shin bone, probably splintering it almost beyond repair and effectively immobilized him. In any case, he wouldn't be able to run for cover, and had only half a clip of ammunition left. Starting to panic, the agonized German shoved his gun over toward the side where he thought the shot might have come from and fired blindly through the trees, his watering eyes preventing him from even trying to aim...

A hoarse cry of aggony richocheted through the forest like a bullet of of a tank. The rifelman had hit his target. The two scouting slowly made their way up the inclining mountain. The soldiers jumped for cover as the German shot once more. The two soldiers quickly ran up to him and with the butt of their rifels, thumped him in the back of the head and draged him off for interogation and medical help back at the Sherman...

The rifelman with Patton's gun handed him his rifel back and stepped away from the tank for a moment of silence after the shooting...

Patton yelled, 'Fire!' and the Shermans short, 75mm cannon blasted a shell at the hillside where a suspected bunker might be.

"OK," One of the soldiers muttered so everyone could hear after someone burped, "Maybe the Sherman ISN'T the loudest thing in the forest."

Everyone burst into cheers and laughs.

The lone soldier heard the grinding of what sounded like the M4's turret turning. For a moment before the blast and shake of the ground, he saw the Sherman's turret turned slightly to the left, then, 'Crack'!!! The explosion shook the ground and make the soldiers ears ring. a loud, dull thump put bad images in the soldiers mind...

Dark earth, piled stone and thick wooden planks exploded from the side of the concealed bunker, littering the ground at its side and spewing dust and dirt thickly into the air. It took a minute for the debris to settle enough to see the damage in the failing light. All the natural materials within the blast radius had been blown out by the tank, but behind them, a layer of silver wall still stood nearly undamaged, gleaming dully in the feeble sunlight. It wasn't made of the usual corrugated metal that hangars and bunkers were often constructed of. The material, whatever it was, was obviously much stronger than aluminum and completely flat. Not a single seam or rivet was visible across its dusty surface...

The impact sent all four occupants of the bunker sprawling, lights flickering, machines alarming and loose items on shelves crashing to the floor. When everything had gone quiet, one by one the Germans slowly pulled themselves back to their feet, fear twisting their insides. All eyes locked on Wolfram, who knew they were all wondering the same thing. Had their own government found out the runaway scientist was still alive and somehow tracked him down, or had an enemy patrol stumbled across them? Come to think of it, how were they any different to him now? Wolfram was effectively running from his own country as well as the Allies. All he had now for friends and protection was his tiny group and their bunker. If they had been discovered by Germans, he would surely be executed. If it was someone else, he might still be executed, or if he was lucky, taken prisoner, but that would still mean the end of his life's work. Either way, the outlook was bleak...

His face taking on an ashen pallor, Wolfram motioned one of the guards over to the back escape door, which was well hidden on the side opposite to where the shot had impacted. He relayed instructions for the guard to attempt to identify their attackers and helped him push the heavy, overgrown door open enough to squeeze through. Still wearing a nervous look, the guard cautiously glanced around into the gathering gloom and slowly moved off, keeping his back to the side of the bunker. When he came to the corner, he briefly peered around, pulling back into shadow when he saw the markings on the tank. "American!" he hissed back to Wolfram, who was barely visible inside the cracked-open door...

The Driver of the Sherman started moving the vehicle out of the underbrush and toward the bunker. As the tank neared the bunker, Patton and the crew could see they had a direct hit. Debris and junk lay on the ground. Patton signaled to the remaining 3 crew who haden't gone inside the crammed tank to go and see if an entrance hole or a way in had opened up. As the three made their way up to the bunker, they saw they had blow through all the wood, stone and dirt, but not a silver material. one of the men signaled after a conversation, try again. The three darted out of the way behind a tree and they heard, 'Fire!' and a crack shot through the wooded area. Bam! another shell hit the wall. Not a dent.
"Holy... Damn that stuff is tuff!"
"Don't have to be sherlock to figure that out..." Another of the three answered.