The Ss Cometh Part 1 Medical Spoils Of War

"The SS Cometh Part 1 - Medical Spoils of War"

Who: Riechter, Christiane, Alice & Marcel
IC Date: May 1940
OOC Date: Feb. 18, 2008
Where: Arras Hospital, France

What: The SS troops make themselves at home in Arras Hospital after the Germans have marched in.

Arras Hospital (16 4)
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Arras Hospital is a relatively modern facility. The building was built about ten years ago, when the old hospital no longer served as well as it should, so the house still retains some of that freshness of new paint and new gear. Upon entering, there's a large waiting hall and a receptionist meeting the clientele. Hallways leading off of this area goes to various sections of the hospital.

It is currently daytime.

Sub-Rooms :
1. Balcony


Out <O>

Welcome to Germany's new western province. The SS men here seem mostly to be posted guard at the hospital, several field medics making short work of looking through the hospital's supplies under the watchful eye of a stocky Oberschutze, and a slightly younger fellow with fewer decorations. Riechter, the aforementioned stocky fellow, leans on a monstrous rifle that stands nearly as tall as him a cigarette smouldering in his teeth as he keeps watch on the requisition.

Christiane is in the hospital and appears intent on remaining there unless she's directed to leave by the SS. Not that she's getting in there way. She stands near the field medics that're going through the supplies. Arms crossed along her chest, watching them. Her expression is studiously bland.

Riechter's hand goes to his sidearm and he clears his throat. Something is barked in German. "Stand clear, Frauline… let the men work and we'll be on our way," he grunts, half expecting her not to understand. He doesn't seem overly concerned either way.

Alice is … doing her damndest to blend in with the wall paper. She peers out at Christiane now and again, frowning as she watches the Germans come on in. She blinks, as Richter barks in German. « I think they are trying to talk to us, but… » She doesn't speak German, so she just goes quiet again.

Christiane tilts her gaze sideways, toward Alice. «I know what they are saying,» she says simply. She then replies to Riechter blandly, in German. "I apologize if I am in your way, Monsieur." She takes a few steps back. But only a few steps. "Perhaps this task would go faster if I knew what you were looking for. I fear our supplies have not been in the best order of late."

Riechter snorts derisively at Christiane's offer. "The men will find what they need…" he assures her, his suprise at hearing the german tongue from a french woman is not easily masked. "Your help is unnecessary…" Morphine, bandages, sutures, anything that can be made into a hasitly needed field dressing. It all disappears into the medic's satchels. Only enough left behind for any wounded who might still be present after the bombing runs came through. "Besides… why would these men trust the word of some one who fled her home and took up with the untermensch? Why would I?"

That's harsh. At least, if Alice could understand it. She is as the stereotypical blonde, looking a little blank. She nods, « I see. » Alice sidesteps a soldier, eyeing him a moment. Hey! Watch the elbows! She looks back to Riechter and Christiane, trying to read what she can from expressions.

Christiane's expression remains carefully neutral, though her brows arch a notch at that last. "I am unsure what you mean. In any case, I hope you will, in your goodwill, leave something behind for my patients. We are not a large hospital and recent events have stretched our resources." That said she turns back to Alice, stepping to stand beside the younger woman. «They say they will leave after they have finished their…resupplying,» she explains in French. «Do not be afraid.»

Riechter snaps at the offending soldier - harsh, sharp words. "Lay another hand on a civilian and I will put you down where you stand, Schutze," he snarls, his hand curling around the grip of his Luger. The Panzerknacker's stare is harsh and cold as he glares at the younger soldier. Without turning his gaze away from the man who shouldered Alice aside, he answers up to Christiane. "We are not without mercy, Frauline. There are surgeons enroute to lend aide to the victims of this war…" After a fashion.

« I see, » Alice replies again, squinting. « Doesn't seem terribly right, » She considers. Alice blinks at Riechter's reaction, stepping back a little. Yikes. She just kind of looks up, and then away. Alice is a bit of the wall paper. A fly on said wall paper. That's right! She looks at a loss for words.

"How very considerate," Christiane replies levelly. She tenses when he snaps at his subordinate, and grips his Luger, reaching out to put a calming hand on Alice's shoulder. «He won't hurt us unless we give him a reason to.» To Riechter she says, "Be careful, please. I know you mean…well…Monsieur, but it would not do the unnerve the patients. Any more so." But something else in what he says stirs her curiosity, once she's turned it over in her head. "The hospital is to be taken over, then?"

"The hospital will be placed in the hands of qualified, capable, German surgeons who may, or my not, decide to keep on existing staff," Riechter remarks, his meeting of wills over with the offending soldier who turns back to his task. "It is not for me to say; I am not a surgeon… I am only a soldier. Putting men back together is not my business. Taking them apart is." His manner is cold and even as he relays this, perhaps to perpetuate the stereotype, perhaps simply to put a bit of a scare into the woman… or maybe he just honestly believes it.

« Neither of us really fights so… » Alice just nods, staying quiet and setting her own hand over Chstiane's, watching with widened eyes. Fear has mostly turned to disbelief, is this one long nightmare to see German soldiers marching in and taking what they will? It is a strange thing, unfathomable. « What an odd fellow, » She finally notes.

Christiane's eyes narrow at all that. "Qualified and capable. Of course." If she has any reaction to the rest of that, she manages to keep it to herself. She gives Alice's hand a squeeze. «Do not let him frighten you. Its what he wants.»

«Unt how do you now vat I vant, frauline?» Riechter answers back in heavily accented French. Apparently having seen him perform this little trick before, the other soldiers chortle in amusement. «You are korrekt, zo. No 'arm vill komen to you, zo lonk az you are givink due korter.» The hammer strap is snapped into place on his side arm as he speaks, switching back to a more comfortable tongue. "Do we have an understanding, Frauline?"

A stare. Alice tilts her head, she looks like she wants to comment, but isn't daring. She just smiles and nods at Christiane. Righto. She bites her lower lip, just watching. Staring. Almost like a little french gargoyle perched upon a shelf.

Christiane stiffens as he replies to her French. Well, then. She does not look at Alice, keeping her gaze on Riechter while he talks. «I understand quite clearly, Monsieur,» she replies. She tilts her head to one side, as if studying him, then asks, "You said something before I did *not* understand. What does it mean, untermensch?" She can speak German well enough, but her tongue wraps awkwardly around the unfamiliar word.

"Untermensch," Riechter repeats, nodding a bit at this. "Lesser men…" he explains, gesturing a bit. "Those of weaker stock who seek to uproot those of us who earn our way by the strain of our backs and the sweat of our brows… the men who would take my family's lands and drive the German race into servitude…"

Alice just keeps an eyebrow quirked, giving this whole affair a sideways glance. It'd be comical in any other situation. But. Smile and nod. What a strange word though, all this German. She just has a blank, wide-eyed stare. Trying not to be rude, she looks around. Hrrrm. She stays in place though, not daring to leave Christiane, a familiar face.
"Lesser men…" Christiane repeats the phrase. Her expression still betrays a trace of puzzlement over that explanation, but she asks no more about it. She falls back into French after that. Its clearly easier for her. And, perhaps, she does not want to make things any easier for Riechter. «The doctors that are coming here. Are they Germany army, or they from your civilian hospitals?»

«Zey are boz civilyan unt Lieberstante SS,» Riechter remarks calmly as he regards the pair. «Zey vill alzo be enzurink zat no jermen zoljers are bekomen… too…» He pauses, as if searching for the proper word. "Vamilyar vit zeh lokals… iz klear? My meanink, yah?"

Alice's other eyebrow joins its sister. She's still staring and falling away from fear into a bewildered sort of apathy, much like a cow being herded into a pen or a slaughter house. No fear. Just … kind of staring. She nods. And smiles meekly.

Christiane nods as she follows that. She turns that over in her head but, again, no reaction is visible. Likely she's unsure whether that is good news or bad. Save for the last part, which earns another short nod. «I do not think you will have to be concerned about the locals wishing to be…familiar with your soldiers.»

«Many of zee jung men,» Riechter explains. «Zey do not have zee zense of an oks, ya…» He shrugs, almost helplessly. «Bezides…a jung man unt a jung voman… zey do not alvayz usen zey brainz, yah?» Though he does not seem to be fully out of his twenties himself, he carries himself with a discipline of a man ten years or more his senior. «Ve vill be ensuren zat zuch zings, zey do not be 'appenink.»

Just another nod. Alice is a creature of the background, preferring to let Christiane speak. She keeps that faint, neutral smile. Probably just her way of dealing with things.

Christiane is doing her best to remain stoic about this whole mess. But, as Riechter speaks of that, she can't help but shudder. «Good. See that you do. The women of this town will not trouble your soldiers, I assure you.» She's past forty, several years his senior, but its only now that he speaks of it she notices the man's youth. But she does not remark upon it, save for a blink and a longer look at his face.

«You I vill belief,» Riechter agrees, nodding a little. «But no-von kan predikt nature… zee jung vill do vat zee jung haff alvays done,» he explains with a shrug. «Zey vill dizobey, unt dive het lonk…» The field medic seem satisfied that they have taken all the hospital can afford to give. "Back to the unit… tend to the wounded there, and let them know the infantry will secure the city…" he barks in German. It might come off more gruff than it actually is to some one who isn't familiar with it. «I over appologiez vor zee disrub-chun, Frauliens… vee vill zee to it zat your 'ozbitalz are ztocked ven zee main vorce arrive… Do unterztant; zee men, zey are on etch… zey are battle very, unt var vrom 'ome… Bezd to be given zem a vide berz.»

« Farewell, » Alice waves. She has sunk into disbelief. She will wake up. Yes, this is all a dream. It is a strange way to cope, but it is working for the now. The woman just … nods once more. « Of course… » She is polite, just disbelieving. « No … worries. »

«A wide berth. Yes. I certainly will,» Christiane replies to Riechter. That's the only goodbye he's getting from her. She tightens her clasp on Alice's hand.

Pause. «Zhe iz… okay, yez?» the Southlander wonders, frowning at the odd response from Alice. Infact, the first he's heard from her since he began speaking French. «I am… ahh… virzt aid. Vill zhe be… ah… alreich?»

« Huh? I am fine, » Alice shakes her head. She gently curls her fingers around Christiane's and just smiles a little. « See, just fine. Didn't want to interrupt. » Right? That's polite. And well mannered.

Christiane gives Riechter a stony look. «She is fine. We are all…unnerved. These have been very trying days. As I am sure you can understand. Good day, Monsieur.»

The IC time is May 1940!

Riechter grunts a bit, but gives a skeptical look at Christiane… followed by another quizzical glance at Alice. He shouts something at the detachment still posted outside the hospital as he descends the stairs and snatches up his Solothurn with relative ease.

Right! She smiles and nods, trying to look perkier. Or at least more normal. « Right… have a good day, » Another little wave. Alice is just quirky when stressed out it would seem.

Christiane does not wave to Riechter. She just stands stock still and watches as he leaves.

Marcel arrives from the Out.

Riechter leads a detachment of uniformed, and well armed SS soldiers out of the hospital, himself carrying the Panzerknacker shoulder cannon. He is stone faced now, and at least looks to be satisfied with whatever has occured within the medical facility.

Marcel is on his way in as the SS is on their way out, and after a moment of rapidly blinking panic he skitters aside. The hat atop his head is removed and held close to his chest in one hand, as the other hand briefly combs his balding hair. He then mantains a servile reserve as he waits for them to pass, busying himself with the study of his own necktie.

Riechter, the Solothurn propped on his shoulder as if it were just another rifle, pauses to regard the aging beauraucrat at the doorway, letting the detachment form up in the street and wait for him. He appears to be in charge of this group of Schutze apparently. The lengthy moment he spends studying Marcel ought to make it clear to anyone near by that he doesn't care for the man. "Untermensch," he grunts derisively as he stocks off. You'd almost expect him to strap on some jack-boots and start marching off.

Christiane is standing by one of the supply cabinets with Alice. The SS been have pretty much cleared it out for their own use, save for the barest necessities they've had the courtesy to leave behind for the hospital staff. When she sees Marcel, she finally steps away from the cabinet and strides over to meet him. "Monsieur Mollet. What brings you here?" She tries to ignore departing Riechter as she asks the question.

The Untermensch keeps his quiet bespectacled eyes straight ahead, avoiding the SS's gaze, and lightly taps his hat against his stomach in a nervous, idle gesture as he waits for them to move on. As Christiane draws nearer he turns his blinking eyes to her and forces a tight smile and a polite nod, "Madame. A filing cabinet fell on me. I'm afraid I may have hurt my shoulder perhaps or my back, though I hope nothing is broken. Must be able to stand my post in these complicated times."

Riechter heads off Out.

"Come along," Christiane says, gently trying to lead Marcel to a free bed and motioning for him to set. "If you were able to walk here, it cannot be that serious. Which is for the good. The Germans managed to deplete our supplies more in an hour than the entire British army." Now that Riechter is gone, the full force of her annoyance with the situation creeps into her tone.

Following as if in a stupor, Alice is slowly creeping back into reality. She smiles weakly, "Yeah … I feel badly, they cleaned huose." A little sigh. She smiles at Marcel though. "Hello, monsieur." "I am sorry to hear you are hurt." Nod. "If you need anything, I'll be around."

Marcel follows after Christiane for a few steps, then pauses and glances over his shoulder to the departing SS troopers, gaze lingering on their uniformed backs until they are out of sight. The bureaucrat lets out a sigh once they are gone. Looking to the nurse again, he gestures a quick negative to her, "No, Madame, it is not serious at all. The cabinet was empty." his voice drops to a conspiratorial tone, "It was a ruse, Madame, in case I was questioned. I am on a mission of reconaissance for the Town Hall."

"Madame." he tips his head to Alice as well.

Christiane was in the process of kneeling down to examine Marcel when he clarified that. She blinks, then stares at him. She looks torn between amusement and worry. "Reconnaissance?" she asks, instinctively dropping her voice.

Alice's eyebrows lift at his comment. She whispers to Marcel, "Really? Oh… I'm glad you aren't hurt much then." Alice pauses, looking around. "Guess I will go make sure Gabriel and Iggy are okay." She frowns, realizing the two might have encountered the Germans by now.

"But certainly, Madame, reconaissance." Marcel is completely serious, and his tone might even be described as grave, with a dash of earnestness "It is necessary for the good functioning of our institutions that we at the Town Hall know exactly what is going on in Arras. What has happened? They have taken supplies?" he raises an eyebrow and looks about the hospital.

"Be careful, Alice," Christiane says to the other woman in parting. She purses her lips at Marcel's earnestness, smiling fondly. "That was brave of you, Monsieur. I am not certain how wise it was, however." At his question she nods, and her expression turns grave. "Yes. They've left us with just enough, barely, to manage our current patients. Bandages, sutures…morphine…anything they could use, they've taken."

A smile, and a wave. "If I can help, just call." Alice tiptoes out then, wandering past beds and things. "Iggy?" She calls once she's poked her head out the door. The woman is gone soon after, calling for her cat.

«Game» It is now dusk.

"It is my duty, Madame. I simply do my duty." after his eyes sweep across the hospital around him, Marcel frowns, hands coming to a stop on his hips, one of them wagging the hat vigorously back and forth. "That is little better than banditry." perhaps he expected better from the Germans. As Alice leaves, he inclines his head to her, "Madame." then falls silent for a long while. "I certainly expect their superior officers will put an end to this behavior."

Christiane makes a soft "Hmph" sound. "That man who passed you did not look like a mere private. But perhaps. I have been told we are being resupplied." This makes her frown even more. "They are sending Germans here. Their Nazi doctors. To 'manage' the hospital. I have been told that, perhaps, current staff can stay on. If we prove 'capable' enough for them." She shudders. "I wonder how they judge capable…?"

"There are surely higher instances that would condemn this lawlessness." Marcel speaks hopefully, ever confident in the German love for order. At something Christiane says, he pauses, and his brow knits into a network of thinking lines, "Then they will be staying in Arras." another long pause follows, and he picks out his pocket watch to check the time, tapping a thumb on the display. Returning his attention to the nurse, he shakes his head, "Surely, Madame, you are more than capable enough for any doctor to be glad to have you on staff. There simply is no question of resisting them now, the important thing is to ensure the people of Arras are safe, regardless of who is in charge, no?"

Christiane nods at that. "My husband, Markus, said much the same. Keep our heads low. Perhaps things will not be so bad." But, as she says that, her eyes, go to the raided supply cabinets. "The German soldier I spoke to suggested the men here now would be moving soon. But there are clearly others on the way and they, I think, will stay longer…"

"There is nothing else we can do, Madame." Marcel's hands and shoulders rise in a slight helpless shrug, then drop again to his sides. "We must wait. France will never allow them to stay as long as they hope to stay, Madame."

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