New Volounteer

Where: Mediana (Belchite Campaign)
Who: Chandos, Hans, Jase, MAtti, Vaclav
When: September, 1937

Mediana

Coordinates : 5 5

The more prominent buildings are constructed of a pale brown, ruddy stone, while the poorer structures are wrought of plain wood, plaster and shingle. Civilians have long since fled the town, leaving soliders, and rats as the only occupants.

It is currently night time.

Sub-Rooms :
1. House

Matti is kneeling in a corner of the room, standing over a wash basin liberated from a local house. The basin is full of cloudy, milky water - apparently soap has been dissolved into it. He is washing his Red Army coat there, having finally decided to get rid of the blood and dirt caked over it. Matti is wearing a white tunic with suspenders and simple woolen pants - now, more than ever, he looks more like a peasant than a soldier.

The troublesome head wound at last starting to fade in the face of medical attention (not to mention a stubborn refusal to die), Vaclav is up and about more often, stepping back into the building from outside, having just concluded a munitions count. "Comrade," he rumbles toward Matti- the first to catch his attention, "How many bullets you carry?"

The Mediana nights have gotten rather dangerous, so Jase has been spending them on the west side of town, perched in a ruined building, rifle in hand. However, the American has finally been relived for the night and so he heads back towards HQ, sticking to the shadows of the ruined down.

Matti looks up from his chore, muttering to Vaclav, "5 in gun, 25 in bandolier. You look better. Headache gotten better, no?" He says this without checking his ammo count… He hasn't seen action for some time, so that's understandable. He doesn't notice Jase's arrival, crouched down as he is.

Vaclav nods curtly once, crossing his arms, and rumbling "Hrm. Headache at least have full count of bullets. Good." Jase is a sneaky bastard, and Vaclav is facing in for the moment, thus, the american's approach has yet to be observed.

Eventually, Jase makes it back to the command post, stepping inside with a heavy sight as he drops his pack on the floor and rubs his eys. "Nothing. Another night on post and nothing."
Matti looks aside as the American enters the building. He mutters wryly, "Your luck, comrade. Some of those moros seem to be ghosts… I can't see them half the time, even if I bloody well know they're tuere." The sullen Finn shoots a look out of the Western window at the sentry post - lost more than one man there, already.

Vaclav looks back over his shoulder as Jase settles in, "'Nothing' is good Comrade," he mutters to Jase. "Many of those moros ARE ghosts. We kill so many, there must be few men left in Morocco," the corporal rumbles with a sniff.

"Its been mostly Blackshirts, lately," Jase says, "They're not quite as sneaky as those damn moros. Most try to snipe from our western front rather then sneak in and cut your throat." The American smirks a little bit as he leans up against a wall, "But looks like they're sleeping tonight."

Matti shrugs his slight shoulders, "I see man move, I shoot at him. They all bloody moroccan to me." He glances sideways at Vaclav, as he finishes washing the coat, letting it just soak there in the soapy water for now. "It rule of life that world never never run out of bastards. Or that bastards never die for good, for that matter." The Finn adds in a low tone, that is nevertheless quite clearly audible, "After all, comrade corporal still alive."

Vaclav hrms, and nods slowly. "Some bastards die better than others. Blackshirts are good bastards. Only italian. Die quick, or give up. Finns? Bad bastards. Never die, never shut up."

"I disagree," Jase says, dropping his voice a little bit, "We're all dead already. Just havn't realized it yet." He laughs a little bit at that as he starts checking his rifle over, making sure its fully loaded.

Chandos has arrived.

Matti is standing over a washbasin full of soapy, dirty water - he's not wearing anything resembling a uniform, and looks more like a peasant than anything else. Apparently, he's washing his military gear. Matti chuckles, a harsh, rather unpleasant sound, shaking his head at Vaclav, "You realize that you encouraging me to talk more, yes?" The slender Finn shakes his head at Jase, looking rather puzzled, "Dead? I not understand. I feel plenty alive, unless they make sniper bullets painless and I not realize I in heaven." The last words are LOADED with irony.

Hans wakes up with tears of sweat on his forehead, "Damn Fasists." he says, and stands up cleanning his forehead with his shirt, "I should get to work…" he hmms and takes out his wrench and tools. He looks around, "Anyone can help me fixing the Armored car?" he asks

Vaclav snorts once. The big czech stands with arms crossed, a light machine gun leaning against the wall within reach. He rumbles is a flat, and deep voice to Jase, "Not dead yet, Comrade. Not die yet- not until beat Peters' brains out." A dry sniff to Matti, who is answered, "You mistaken, Comrade. I am corporal. I never encourage anything." As Hans speaks up, Vaclav sends the man a short sidelong look, "Find Guererro. Or Urban. No other mechanics."

"Speaking of Elena," Jase says, stretching an arm over his head, "Has anyone seen her lately? Havn't seen her since we assulted that church and she burned her hand." The American sounds just a little worried at that.

A solitary figure comes walking towards the house where people are gathered, looking sort of confused or aimless, a hand scratching his head. Chandos, that being his name, looks somewhat out of place, as if no one has told him about the party yet.

Matti murmurs, "I think Elena around. Have not seen her myself, lately." Matti looks rather thoughtful for a moment, but says nothing more about that. The Finn merely shakes his head at Vaclav's words, but Chandos' arrival definitely catches his attention. As he hears the footsteps, he shouts out, "Who there?" His eyes flick to his rifle, but he doesn't seem to be particularly trigger-happy.

"You not sound dead, comrade," Vaclav rumbles dryly to Jase, before looking over his shoulder toward the one Matti challenges. Expression settling quickly into a frown, blue eyed narrow in quick study of the other, echoing "Who there?" in rough, curt spanish.

Chandos pauses as the question reaches his ears. Who there? Well, let's hope he's found the right HQ. "I… I've come to fight," he answers, raising his voice in Spanish. "On your side," he adds quickly. Well, that covers it well, right? "They said go over there, Chandos, that's where the fight is." And then, lifting his hands up to show he's harmless for the moment, he darts his head into the house. "So here I am."

Invaders! Being the cautious sort he is, Jase switches his rifle for his Star, swinging the weapon up when Chandos pokes his head in. He doesn't squeeze the trigger quite yet, of course.. but he's ready.
«Game» Jase unwields his Star SI35!
«Game» Jase wields his Star SI35!

Matti looks at Chandos in incomprehension - he speaks only a few words of Spanish. He doesn't move towards his rifle, however, apparently content that the situation is well in hand. The Finn raises an eyebrow at the SMG-wielding Jase, but says nothing. War has taught him distrust, as well.

"Say he is volunteer," Vaclav repeats in brusque english for Jase and Matti, one eye kept on Chandos, to whom he looks back, before flatly, "Hablo Englais?" The corporal stands still with boots at just wider than his shoulders, and thick arms still crossed, adding a moment later, "Inside," with a toss of his head to motion Chandos into the building.

Hans hmms, "A Spanish volunteer?" he asks, "That is good. Welcome" he says to the spanish and opens the engine of the Armored car and starts working on fixing it…

"I know what he said," Jase responds, not lowering his weapon, "And it'd be just like those Nationalists to send a spy over claiming to be a 'Volunteer'. Where are his papers?"

"Volunteer." Matti says this thoughtfully, as if trying to make up his mind whether the Spaniard is speaking the truth. After a moment's hesitation, he adds, "Nationalists generally look like soldiers, though. If he spy, he very good spy."

Chandos eyes the people gathered inside the house, as if making sure none of them will shoot him before stepping in. Still he is cautious as he does. "I do," he answers the question about English. After a short pause, he walks over to Vaclav who seems to be the most adept at speaking his language. Wiping a large hand on his coveralls, he offers it to the guy, definitely a civilian gesture, not knowing any better. "Name's Chandos." He looks over at Jase and then Matti, shaking his head. "No spy. No. No papers. I cannot read, so. I don't carry them around, you see. Should I go get them?"

Hans Hmms, "Lets not think every single spanish who comes to join us as a spy comrades. If we start to doubt everyone, we will go insane." he says, "Yes, everyone can be a spy." he shrugs and starts working on the cars engine…

«Ground Vehicles» Hans works on fixing BA-6 (#9775).

"How about we say you're a spy, Fritz?" Jase shoots over at Hans, narrowing his eyes, "Aren't those your countrymen flying those Stukas?"

Hans shakes his head and curses under his breath as he fixes the Armored car "Did you ever see me leave this position to go and send secret letters or something?" he shakes his head, "My whole life is in this car." he pets the BA-6. "If it explodes. I am useless. If I am inside when it explodes, I am dead." he says, "If I were a spy, I would bring a german machinery like a tank or armored car. Not a russian one."

Vaclav sniffs once shortly, rumbling to Jase, "A volunteer would have no papers, comrade." As the hand is wiped off and offered, Vaclav answers in his deep tone, "In Brigades, we salute, comrade." The right hand is raised, with a closed fist in the communist salute toward Chandos. "I Corporal Vaclav Hagen- he is Morris," Jase, "That walking complaint is Matti- outside, damn german is Munch." Abruptly, a short barked laugh, to Jase's shot toward Hans. Again to "Comrade Chandos," the czech keeps to english, "Have a seat. Bad idea to stand around in open. Snipers." Aside to Matti, he notes curtly, "When see Hernandez, tell him come find me."

"That doesn't make a lick of sense," Jase tells Hans, "If you were a spy, why would come with something that would immediately paint you as a spy?" He smirks a little bit, before glancing at Chandos again, his weapon lowered- though still in his hands.

It's always a relief to know you won't be shot for being a spy. One assumes it'd hurt more if you were not a spy to begin with. After the introductions, Chandos tries the new salute, raising his fist towards each person in turns. "Well met, comrades," he murmurs, as if trying to words for size. And then a second time, this one more confident, "Well met, comrades." His gaze settles on Jase. "No spy. I work at the docks… did work at the docks." Eyes wander and glance around then. "So… what do I do?"

Matti nods to Vaclav, muttering, "Allright, I find Hernandez for you. You need good wife to finds things for you, comrade corporal. You seem to lose things all the time." His sullen face, as usual, is quite humourless. He shouts out to Hans, "Comrade Munch… I not want to touch it. Machines hate me, because they know I hate them as well. If I try, I just break it." He offers a loose, vaguely salute-ish wave in the direction of Chandos. His appearance seems very far from military discipline, all in all.

Vaclav rumbles to Chandos, "First, very important: you wait. Soldiers do this very much." Tossing a flat, "Should talk less to you, Finn. Always end up losing temper." Leaving the machine gun to stand against the wall for a moment, he starts out of the building.

Hans turns to vaclav, "Comrade corporal. I will take the Armored Car to north. This place seems to be like a magnet to allitery and I dont want to lose the Armored car."

Jase yawns a little bit as he settles down against the house wall, submachine gun still resting in his lap.

Chandos nods slowly and turns to watch Vaclav moving out of the building. "Alright. I'm waiting," he murmurs, clasping his hands in front of him. Is there a communist way of clasping hands too? A brief look around at the people does not help much, so he goes with what he knows for now.

Matti shakes his head at Vaclav, "You not talk much to me, comrade corporal, I talk much at YOU." He doesn't, however, goad the burly corporal further… Apparently he doesn't want to test his luck. He sits down on the floor next to the washbasin, staring at the floor for a while. Then, as if the excess of energy about his slight form found it difficult to stay without a release, he turns to Chandos. "Hey, comrade. Usually when we see spaniard with gun, we shoot." Despite the lack of a smile on his sullen face, that was probably humour.

Vaclav nods curtly once to Hans in passing. "Do it. Take armour car north, maybe shells fall north, and not near Field Hospital." Is it the place that threatens the car with shells, or the car which threatens the place? Stepping toward K Company's munitions storage, the corporal is gone several moments before reappearing with a captured rifle carried in his right hand.

«Ground Vehicles» Hans gets into BA-6.
«Ground Vehicles» BA-6 leaves Mediana, headed for Mediana via North <N>!

The humour from Matti registers a bit late on Chandos, if at all, for he does not seem to be smiling. But at least he's not running away either so it shouldn't be too bad. "We are not all like… all spaniards not…" he struggles to explain or perhaps understand which side he's taken, himself. "There are spanish probo… prolloto…" Proletariat? "There are many spanish workers, too," he finally manages, looking at Matti meaningfully as if that is supposed to explain. He's probably followed the propaganda of a passing communist, liked the bits about empowering the working class and all that, and is now trying to repeat the same words. "Why should I not fight for the people? Right? My people." Yeah, this one's not quite crystal clear on ideological affairs.

Matti chuckles, a harsh, rather unpleasant sound. "No mind me, comrade. You ask comrade corporal any day - I full of shit. Happy to see spaniard fighting for his own people, too… I think a battle fought for you is not as valuable as one you win yourself." Odd words, coming from a member of the Internationals.

«Game» Vaclav moves into House.

Vaclav steps back into the aid station, and rumbles curtly toward Matti, "Go, Be full of shit someplace else. Find Hernandez," a toss of his head ordering the Finn out out the building, before asking of Chandos simply, "You know to use rifle? Loading, cleaning, shooting?"

Chandos does a gesture, something between a salute and a wave, after Matti. And then he turns back to the returning Vaclav. "I can shoot, yes. For hunting mostly. Never shooted… shot at something else. But I figure it is not much different."

Vaclav hrms shortly, muttering, "Your english is better than mine," before holding the old mauser out to Chandos. "Take gun. Change bullets in chamber." A quick gauge of the spaniard's familiarity with the style of rifle.

Chandos takes the rifle and gives it a quick glance while answering, "You meet all kinds of people at the docks, from everywhere around the world. Most of them speak English, so you get it in the end." The instructed task is performed without much awkwardness, although it's not lightning fast either.

Vaclav eyes the spaniard's handling of the rifle, and grunts wordlessly once, with a short nod. "Take 25 bullets from munition stores. Not keep more than this. Will have Comrade Hernandez show you about camp- duties of solider. Ask if have question. Understand?" The frown has never wholly faded from the corporal's expression.

Chandos nods a few times at Vaclav. "Yes, yes I understood sir… comrade…" Another attempt at the salute. "I'll go find Comrade Hernandez, then?"

Vaclav nods once, rumbling slowly, "West of here, can come under fascist fire. Not walk too far, comrade Chandos."

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 2.5 License.