BIASEDHISTORIAN
Posts: 24
Joined: 10/8/2001
From: RI USA
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Hello All,
Figured that I would share a great DAR that has been ongoing at the Depot. It was a generated PBEM battle, using a modified version of the Dinant map. It has been edited a bit to make it flow better. Bad guys- that would be the Communists, are in bold text...
This is page 1 of 3...let me know if you likey! kayak@SPWAW.COM
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This is the recorded history of a large engagement in the frigid Russian winter, between the Soviets and Germans.
Germans: Player #1 Kayak, Player #2 Saber, Player#3 and HQ Jedi
Soviets: Player #1 Viking, Player #2 Major, Player #3 and HQ Willy
...Col. Yak pulled back on his black leather gloves reveling in the resulting cracking sounds made on the stressed hide. The ENIGMA machine had just sparked to life, the coded wheels spinning his operational orders.
General Jedi to Kampgrup Yak Mission Orders: EYES ONLY!
Col. Yak:
Objective: seize objective SEAR- destroy in detail gain, control of the terrain at Greene and Tango, then await further instructions....
divisional artillery requests will have priority.
The Colonel clasps his hands together any yelled out with glea....muhhahahahahahahaah Orders were dispatched and the men set about to their tasks...
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With a nod to the driver of "Za Stalina" - my Command tank, the start up ritual begins. Knowing that combat was soon approaching, the V-12 diesel has already been pre-heated by my crew with blowtorches, hopefully that will help.
The driver presses the grounding button located arm's length from him. With a genuine Russian 'clunk' sound, the tank's 24 volt batteries are now connected, the three dials in front of the driver jump to life. On pressing a switch to his left, the amp dial's needle plummets, accompanied by a satisfying hum from the diesel's oil pump.
The driver slowly pushes the round tip of the gas lever forward. He presses the start button on the interior wall.
The engine slowly turns over, the starter motor groaning, complaining ............ then the diesel fires up.
It announces its existence with a loud mechanical voice: "clang, clang chunk chunk - puff, chunk chunk-a-chunk chunk puff CHUNK chunk-puff chunk-puff-CHUNK-CHUNK-CHUNK..............."
The occasional puffs of smoke begin to have a rhythm, the sound is gradually transformed from a series of muffled explosions into a steady, angry growl. The exhaust escaping from the mufflers in the rear corners of the hull is thick blue smoke now accompanied by a thunderous roar.
The driver sits still, adjusting the idle using the manual gas lever beside his seat.
On cue, the others around me also start their beasts.
Very soon we shall have the opportunity to defend the Rodina from the Hitlerites.
Major Messkovich ............
"Where the Devil is your commander?"
The motorcycle courier looks around desperately and waves his dispatch envelope in despair. All he can see is slovenly troops lounging around, and smoking machorka cigarettes ... "Important message from STAVKA, where the hell are you're officers?"
The courier looks out at the assembled troops ...
Endless ranks of Impassive and illiterate oriental infantrymen stare at the courier curiously ... He is greeted with blank uncaring stares by the Siberian troops.
Finally a Grizzled old Sergeant walks up winks, and points towards an old log shack ... "Polkovnik is in there"
The courier ducks under the low door and amid a flurry of rather exited female giggles and some coarse swearing, he get's a quick glimpse of pink flesh and a strong whiff of the pungent smell of Vodka ...
Willy meanwhile, shakes his head, pulls up his pants, and reaches for his map case ...
"Where the hell are we anyway ?"
General Willy
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Franz pushed the steel beast harder across the frozen tundra. "I miss beating on the Greeks", he muttered under his breath. He was along way from the pleasant Greek countryside.
The warrior sliced through the broken paths, closing quickly on the suspected enemy positions. He carried a heavy burden on his shoulders knowing how critical his report to the Kampgrup would be...
West of him the massive machinery defining the German might on the battlefield continued to warm. Fires had been running all morning to get the oil to thin. The German soldier of 1943 was much more experienced in winter warfare than his 1941 counterpart. They had been training for this all through the holidays.
The enemy, the Communist, did not celebrate spiritual holidays, they were pagans...beasts, uneducated and unkempt, they would shortly get a lesson in German efficiency...
To General Jedi: Yeah Jedi, the line in the snow has been drawn VIKING
Yeah Jedi ........................
A Yellow line............ remember - Don't eat the snow!
Come and get some Soviet Smack down.
I've got your back V2 - go ahead ......... taunt him again.
Major Messkovich ..............team player.
Leave it to the general to get spotted first, bucking for a promotion to Berlin and the general staff
Still pretty quiet, though now we know that the communists came out to the battlefield, and didn’t hide in their heathen villages like the untermensch they are
All is well though, Dinant seems as good a place as any to bury this communist scum, we shall hold no quarter, all the Stalinites must DIE
-General Jedi
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Col. Yak peered through the mist trying to see first hand as to why the 91st had failed to locate the enemy. He inhaled a deep breath ...."Nope", he muttered, "can't smell em".
Perhaps word had spread through the heathen spy network that Col. Saber was participating in this operation. Cowards...
Ammo canisters continued to arrive and the men put out the last of the fires. The supply chief had been giddy at receiving more than enough fuel to run the German steel.
This should not take long the Colonel mused to himself. With the incoming reports of abandoned enemy posts and scattered weapons left across the landscape the Kamgrup might just achieve it's goals without firing a shot.
"Well...he thought, it would be a shame to not get some target practice in". As they arrived in the village word quickly spread to round up the men from their homes. When asked about the women, the colonel quipped..."what's the difference really; they all smell the same and would not know the meaning of the word razor if it sliced across their faces". Kill them all....
WHERE ARE YOU SOVIET SCUM!!!
The T-34s stark ugliness, is somehow comforting; a machine that brigs death and destruction should not be pretty, the Germans with there fine engineering will learn war is ugly not a finely tuned thing. The Russian hordes will rain down on them and drive them from our land. Every army that has come to our lands have withered and died why should they be any different.
Report to Commander Willy Objective alpha has been reached we are passing phase line Kraut Crush proceeding to next assembly area Viking out…
Well the Ukraine girls really knock me out.
They leave the West behind.
And Moscow girls make me sing and shout
That Georgia’s always on my mind.
I’m back in the USSR…………………………………
WHAT! ………………………… WHAT! ………………….What did you Say?
I must have been daydreaming there for a minute.
It’s 0800, and at least minus 30 Celsius outside right now, and I was just sorta zoning out on the nice winter morning as my Tank is charging through the fresh powder. My Engineers are skiing behind my tank rather than hanging on, and some of them are pretty good at it.
Oh Yeah, where were we?
The radio isn’t working again Sir!
Great! I grumble to myself, out come the flags again. This will slow things down. I sure wish we had received some of those nice American radios. Those things work, not like the crap we got now.
Not to worry though, we have our objectives and we’re right on course to achieve them.
Maybe that will get that creepy NKVD Officer off of my back, and away from my Company. I really don’t want my loved ones getting a bill for my bullet; Mrs. Messkovich would have a fit!
Turn has been sent to our Glorious and Brave Leader – Comrade Willyski
Major Messkovich ……………………….. Leading by example.
"JUST SIGN THE DAMN MANIFEST, POLKOVNIK!"
Polkovnik Willy glances uneasily at the Division's Political Officer "I think you're tally is a little high, Comrade!" he remarks. "Nonsense!" replies the Politruk: "This document lists every tank, truck, rifle, grenade, and liter of diesel fuel that STAVKA has equipped this unit with." "You'd better be able to account for each shortfall after the battle ... your lives are cheap, but every piece of equipment is vital to the liberation of the Rodina!"
After the organizational unpleasantness is dealt with, Willy queries his veteran Siberian Sargeant "What news of the Hitlerites?"
The grizzled old NCO pulls at his beard thoughtfully and replies: "No sign of them yet, but they are firing smoke and shells uselessly in an attempt at maskirovka"
"Bah!, we use our shells for killing, not for such frippery!"
The first reports come in from the 91st. Snipers have reached positions in sector Tango and the Bolshevik cowards appear to have brought flame tanks to the battle. They will be useless against our cannon!!!
Muhahahahahahahha...............
...requests to OKW for the arty plastering to begin. The tracks grind forward as our speed increases.
Col. Yak
Status Report from Major Messkovich.
My Battle Group is presently out in the open and plowin’ through the snow at a good clip, we’re covering lots of territory now.
It took awhile, but I’ve finally got my forces sorted out and all on the move. The assembly area was just one big huge traffic jam and Security had a hell of a time directing everybody towards the right objectives. We had a little bit of a bother when my driver ran Za Stalina over a small band of partisans standing in the middle of the road.
Oh well, we got lots more where they came from.
After I started waving around my pistol and threatening people inside Za Stalina the radio net miraculously came back up again and we’re now in constant communication with Commissar Willy. A little tough love goes a long ways around here.
I can reveal at this time the fact that we can’t find a stinkin’ German if our lives depended on it. By closely listening through the static I hear that Comrade VikingNo2 is also finding no resistance in his path.
Contrary to other not-so-reliable reports - The German invaders are nowhere to be found. (If you want accurate reporting, you read our communications first – we always give you the reader the straight goods – well ………………… most of the time at least, except when we’re told not to. And some other times too, but I’m not allowed to talk about that – I’ve said too much already)
The NKVD clown is babbling away on the radio all this time, imploring us to move quicker, to find and kill the Germans. We will, but at our own pace, the pace set by our Brave and Glorious leader – Comrade Willy.
I have also been authorized to disclose that some disturbing reports have been received from some of our Recon squads. Even the threat of execution didn’t encourage them to alter their stories. Evidently we have a couple of independent reports stating that what has been sighted could possibly be an evil, diabolical agent of the enemy. Supposedly there is a big-ugly (one informed us that it was grotesque)–purple–fat–bouncing–thing (maybe some kind of mutant Yeti or somethin’) traipsing around this particular part of the world.
We don’t know what to make of it. This disturbing development has been reported directly back to STAVKA for analysis.
We also shot the scouts that reported this just to make sure.
Major Messkovich …………………………………. signing out.
Don't worry Comrade! NKVD operatives have located the next of kin of all the partisans involved. We will be sending them a bill for the damage to your vehicle's suspension...
Willy
*ATTENTION GERMAN FORCE KOMMANDERS*
from my analysis of intelligence reports, I suggest the following course of action:
1. All Axis forces should stop and let the Russians shoot each other for a while.
2. Employ Wagner or someone to write us a catchy jingle like those damn Russkies have got. (I can't get it out of my head - ...Ukraine girls really knock me out...) I thought McCartneyovich and Lennongrad spent time in Hamburg??
That is all.
Captain Saber
Franz burst over the crest nearly loosing his balance where dirt and mud met in the immense forest. He carried a message of the utmost importance, the location of a Soviet encampment just several clicks east of objective Zulu. His radio kept breaking up over the vast uneven distances involved in the campaign.
Unable to raise Kampgrup Yak he forwarded his message directly to General Jedi. As his and other reports trickled in across the network and the coded wheels began to spin anew with details on the Soviet OOB.
The Colonel had already begun his advance when the intel reached his briefers. Orders were forwarded to his advance screen and the word was clear. If the peasants were going to wait for him to carry the battle to them then by God his sword would strike out in a clear and powerful message…the Viking would be felled first…just like last time when he had barely escaped on a villagers horseback…
The superior power of the German war machinery would take it’s wrath out on the dirt shirts…only their women would be spared, to be sort of early version of a modern day dishwasher machine.
Major Messkovich reporting:
As you can probable sense from all the previous posts, neither side really has anything to say about the battle because up to this point there has been no fighting. Nothing …………………. Nada ……………………… Zilch.
So far, all it’s been is a bunch of trash talk. Us Russians of course come across as clever and cultured, with insightful comments and amazing stories that highlight our fighting prowess, while the Huns have presented to you the discerning reader the raw image of being nothing more than crude thugs.
There………………. I said it, someone had to say it.
Sooooo………………… this is what we’re up against, we’re looking at one really big map and it looks like it will be some time before either side gets anywhere near the opposing side.
What’s That? My Radio operator is frantically waving at me ………………………………… Stop the Tank!
I have my driver slowly shift Za Stalina around until the signal clears up.
Reports are now arriving from some of our Recon squads.
It’s confirmed! ………………. Contact has been made with the forward elements of the hated enemy.
Here’s another update ………………………….. the German patrol was routed and destroyed by our brave soldiers.
Further reports coming from the radio, it’s hard to make out what is being said. There is a lot of traffic on that channel right now. It sounds like one of our Motorcycle patrols has foiled an ambush the evil Fascists tried to set up just West of village 105.
First blood goes to the Russians.
Now it gets interesting.
Major Messkovich ……………………………. makin’ time through the Steppes, signing off………………………
"Just like a line of olive green bugs, isn't it Sergeiovich?" remarks Polkovnik Willy to his Sargeant as the endless line of Soviet tanks grinds past the command bunker... "BAH!, they should all have been whitewashed again by now!!", replies the taciturn Siberian NCO with a disgusted headshake ... "Instead of letting them relax in the rear and drink vodka, you should have made them service and camoflage their vehicles!"
"You are too harsh Sergei, it is Febuary already ... Spring is coming, I can feel it!" replies Willy.
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Commander Viking’s, dull headache has been very persistent the light reflecting off the snow has played havoc with his eyes, as the blank terrain void of enemy falls before his armor, his men itching for action, it has been comforting to see the German Propaganda the more sever and boastful the more you can be assured the enemy knows they are in trouble.
Let them talk about our women all they want we will warm our hands by the fire of their burning bones. His headache subsides a little thinking of his lateral Commander a rather funny old dog Major Mess is his name. Thinking of the conversation they had where he looked shocked when commander Viking was telling him to conveniently lose the political watchdogs, well at least I told him. Some how my watch dog is still with Willy and if I’m in lucky they will send that poor SOB to the next check point, the one that I bypassed LOL.
Soldiers win Wars Politicians make them, unfortunately winning wars makes more positions, uuug this headache is starting to creep back. Kicking the driver in the shoulder telling him to slow a little, have to keep the formations together, nothing beat Russian armor in mass, must keep our strength together….
Commander Viking closes his journal and looks through the binoculars scanning for the enemy, sticking to Willy’s master plan.
Franz had just finished the last of his allotment of lager when his squad heard an irritating insect like noise approaching. Bracing themselves against one of the peasant shacks comprising the outskirts of village 105 they waited for their prey.
The Russians, never being ones to disappoint, barreled right past the battle hardened members of the 91st Rc on bicycles with little gas engines strapped on by what appeared to be canvas belts. As they literally “buzzed” by Franz had to stifle a laugh as he opened up the gates of hell for them…
Across the sector communist buzz units tested our lines. All enemy units were assaulted and forced into a general retreat. The enemy did manage to cut a tire on Rad #11436 with a lucky swipe from a rusty knife, but our efficient mechanics had already set about the task of repairing the issue.
Col. Yak shouted with glee…bouncing up and down and up and down…”Now we have them…they will find Siberia to be no place like home soon enough!” The massive treads continued to pulverize the enemy landscape as the 91st continued to clear away the distracting “peasants”.
The enemy had balked of deception on the part of the German Empire…BAHHH! Shouted the colonel…let the numbers speak for themselves…the incoming casualty reports brought satisfaction to the Command Staff. One warrior had suffered a bruised shoulder when a cheap matchstick wall on one of the Russians shacks had given way during the ambush.
Confirmed Russian deaths…42. The report forwarded to the General contained the enemy wounded as well as killed. The colonel reasoned that a wounded Russian was even less effective than a dead Russian…
Major Mess reporting:
The news is encouraging, I’m pumped!
We’ve found the enemy, and now it’s time to focus our aggression.
The radio channel was alive, everybody stepping on each other trying to give their situation reports (our radio protocol has got to improve). All our recon that has spotted the Hun have now called in (and I mean all of them, no Soviet squads have been lost up to this point). It’s been analysed and plotted on our maps and we have some excellent news to report.
A German HT with a Motorcycle escort was wandering waaaaaaay to close to the rapidly changing front lines. They were quickly punished for that error – both are dead now. The HT’s cargo is now high-tailing their sorry asses back where they came from. It won’t do them any good, those Engineers are toast.
German Motorcycles and Armoured Cars are roaming around the Northern part of the map. They stumble clumsily into our forward screen. With their awkward attacks they succeed only in uncloaking their intentions. A couple of Soviet motorcycle squads have paid in blood for this knowledge but the info they are providing HQ is gold.
Question – What do you do when a scarred, beaten up old T34 crashes through the trees and stops right beside you?
Answer – If you are a certain German Motorcycle Squad you freeze ........ and stand there with your pants around your ankles.
It took a couple of volleys and all that is left are a few salvageable BMW motorcycles. The tank commander radioed in that while looking through the wreckage, he came across the body of a German officer. After relieving the body of his binoculars, gun, holster, radio, greatcoat, goggles, boots, food and anything else of value he came across the invaders ID.
It was from a Lt. Franz something or other, he couldn’t make out anything else, the tags were kinda shot up. Well ……………………. Franz won’t be needing any of those things anymore. To borrow a German term, he’s now fukenkaput.
As will the rest of them in good time.
My drivers right ear must be hurting pretty good by now, after my last post I must have walloped him real hard with my boot to tell him that we could head out. That V12 was just screaming there for awhile, but then with the gentlest of taps to that same side of his head I’ve ordered my driver to slow Za Stalina down. I think he’s deaf but I’m not sure if it’s from the tanks engine noise or from my method of communicating with the dumb bastard.
Anyways, It’s time to get this Armoured Company in order and ready for combat. We’ll have to wait for the slowcoaches to catch up, and then we’ll maneuver to get some shape for the upcoming battle.
I’ve also followed Commander VikingNo2’s advice, and we’ve left Mr. NKVD behind while he was peeing on a tree at our last stop. He can hitch a ride with the Cossacks following behind us if they’ll have him – those guys are wild, and depending on their mood they could just about do anything with him.
By the time he catches up to me it will all be over with. If I’m not dead by then I’ll kill the sumbitch myself if he complains.
Turn has been sent to Supreme Commander Willy
Major Mess ……………………. still half out of my cupola, braving the elements.
"Must you persist in smoking those stinking things, Sergei?" growls Willy to his Sergeant. The scarred Sergeant exhales a cloud of pungent smoke from his machorka cigarette, shrugs, and then grins, bearing a mouthful of rotten and missing teeth. "Everybody needs a bad habit, Comrade ... do you want to hear the news from the front?"
"Da, da, of course!" Willy pulls out a leather map case and unfolds a large map covered with arrows and tactical markings made in grease-pencil. Sergei removes the cigarette from his mouth and flicks it aside into the cold, crystalline air. "Hitlerite scouts have been located here, here, and here ... " His large fingers indicating the locations on the map. "We have lost some of our own scouts, but the enemy has had rough treatment in return ... "
Polkovnik Willy shakes his head and gazes out into the mists of the gloomy white shrouded forests ahead of them "These are just the first little tentative probes ... we'll have to be ready for a lot more of them!"
Sergei laughs bitterly and remarks "They will wish they never came here."
Major Mess reporting:
This tank of mine sure is a nice ride. Big gun, lots of armour ……………… could have used a more powerful engine, but what the heck, it’s fine as is. The boys at the depot even told me that not only are the sights on this monster way better than the older models, the main gun works better than before.
We’ll see.
We’ve been on the move for fifteen to twenty minutes now and the interior is finally starting to warm up a bit. Now’s a good time as any to take a swig from my flask, a belt of Stoly in the morning ……….Ahhhhhh, now that is the Breakfast of Champions.
The turret swings smoothly from side to side – constantly searching – hunting for the German invaders. You know what? There’s not an aggressive German to be found anywhere along our path.
It’s like they’re so tired after making it this far, now they’re too pooped to fight. We’re finding them all over the place, and they just sit still while we blast away at them. Well …………………………… maybe they just become mesmerised when they see the steamroller called the Red Army comin’ at them.
I’d like to think that was the case.
The Germans have been engaged in setting up a series of forward outposts manned by Engineers packing FlameThrowers. We have been equally as busy rolling over said Engineers, plus their half-tracks that transported them.
At least a platoon of that high priced talent has gone to Valhalla so far. More to follow shortly……………………..we promise.
A German Armoured Car that was crippled from some awesome Soviet shooting last turn died all alone, all by itself North of village #106. Two German Motorcycle squads in the same area sat like dummies when our armour bumped into their hiding places. We shoot, some of them die, then they show us their tailpipes before they bugger off out of sight.
These guys ain’t so tough.
With great confidence I can inform Comrade Willy that all objectives are being met on time with negligible losses, resistance has been minimal at best.
Major Mess …………………………. leading the charge.
Many columns of Soviet Heroes are winding forwards through the wintery forests. The frigid winter wind seems to be always at our backs as if to help push the hated invader from our soil!
So far we have encountered Fascist scout troops and, seemingly hurriedly placed screening forces. All forces encountered have been eliminated, and we continue to seek the enemy main force.
End message .....
"Hows that sound Sergei?" asks Willy as he folds the message into the courier's dispatch pouch. "Sounds suitably heroic and positive, Polkovnik!" replies the Sergeant with a grin.
Willy hands the pouch to a heavilly bundled figure astride a restless
shaggy steppe pony. "Take this to the nearest secure landline and instruct that it be relayed directly to STAVKA"___________________________________________________________________
END OF PAGE ONE…
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