Far away on the other side of town a unit of soldiers gathered close around a fire attempting to warm chaffed hands from its meagre heat
Far away on the other side of town a unit of soldiers gathered close around a fire attempting to warm chaffed hands from its meagre heat. One of them stirred a pot of lumpy stew that looked like it was supposed to contain beef. The designated cook poked at the lumpy mass and then took a tentative taste, and immediately spat it on to the floor.
'Errrrk this taste like mud Hans where the hell did you get this meat' asked the cook accusingly. 'I told you from the commissariat, they said that it was the issue for today, they claimed it was prime beef' replied Hans who was a huge hulking Bavarian.
'Lying bloody commissariat probably kept the beef and gave us some poor Frenchie's cat' complained the cook who was a squat ugly man named Günter.
These men all came from the 7th Hanover Pioneers, an old and proud regiment and one that had seen more than their fair share of fighting in the past three years. They had begun as a regiment, small though it was, of five companies and a full complement of seven hundred and eighty two men, one hundred and six sergeants and ninety seven officers. However the war had slowly bled them and they were now a shadow of their former numbers with three officers, the highest ranking a major, sixty seven men and only one sergeant. They had fought in Poland, Lithuania, Russia and countless over places that bore names that no one cared to remember. These soldiers had watched many of their friends die in horrible conditions and they were all that was left, the hard edge of a blade that came from constant use and made it lethal. And the most lethal of them all walked up to the small groups of men.
Sergeant Wilhelm Rossner was a born soldier, six foot tall and broad with it he carried himself with confidence of a man who has seen the worst life has to other and conquered it. As he entered the glow of the fire he tugged of his helmet to reveal unruly raven black hair.
'Hey sarg'e you want some of this cat stew, its pretty good when you get past the taste of Hans feet' his joke was greeted by snorts of disgust from the men around the fire and a deep growl from the massive Han's.
'Nine I don't want any of your pig swill I've already enjoyed a good dinner of biscuit and worm.' said Rossner 'And I'm here to make sure none of you have got any booze that will find its way into your stomachs whilst your supposed to be on sentry'. The men all took on the innocent look of a child found nest to a broken window and smiled at the sergeant.
'Ja that's what I thought, just make sure you're not drunk or you'll answer to me,' the men felt a shiver of fear run through them, no one not even the massive Hans Sketler would want to take on Rossner.
Rossner moved on towards the larger tent under a small group of pine trees that swayed in the slight wind. Rossner liked it in this country there was good earth and wonderful weather. Although as he looked down at the town he saw that mist, it wasn't a natural mist it bought with it misery and suffering he remembered seeing it before back in….
Rossner shook of these thoughts as he reached the tent and scratched at the tent flap for permission to enter; 'Come in Sergeant!' ordered a strong voice. Rossner ducked inside and felt the heat wash over him, it was a wonderful feeling. Three men were gathered around a small camp table pouring over a map of the local area in the dim light of a hurricane lamp.
'Good I'm glad you're here Rossner,' the speaker sounded anything but glad to see him, Major Heeler was not known for his politeness or good manors, what he was known for was being a hard strong man who led his men fearlessly. Heeler glared at Rossner with his piercing blue eyes, Heeler's eyes were his strongest feature he was an unimpressive five foot four and his face was pocked marked, but his eyes could disarm men and were a gateway to his strong personality. The eyes were now focused on Rossner who did not flinch under their gaze.
'So I guess you've been wondering why we've been posted here, well the answer is that we are to fortify the town over there …. La Roche Derrien that's it. We have to make it impregnable so the SS boys can sit on their arses in safety from the resistance for the rest of the war. Now while Lieutenant Gerber and I supervise the beginning of construction, Captain Jaeger and yourself will take fifteen men and sweep the woods around the town to make sure its safe for the pioneers. Clear?' asked Heeler.
'Yes sir, but why fortify this town its not a major one and there'd be no point defending it its not on a major highway!' Rossner voiced the grumblings of all the men.
'Were not hear to ask questions Rossner just shut up and do your job' snapped Heeler 'Dismissed'
'I'll bid you a goodnight to sir' said Captain Jaeger rising from his chair he fell in step with Rossner as they crossed the camp, which was now deserted as they retreated into their tents.
'So Rossner what do you reckon this is all about?' asked an excited Jaeger. 'What do you mean sir, it's just a simple building job nothing more,' Rossner replied bluntly.
'Ah come on Ross, you saw those strange looking guy's in the town with the cloaks. Looked to me as if they were in charge making that SS arse jump around like a flea, and they weren't in any army uniform and they had all those prisoners, something strange going on if you ask me.'
'Aye there's something strange going on but like the major said it's not our place to ask.' Rossner looked down at the short stocky Jaeger, he was a young man rising to the rank of captain due to necessity rather than merit, but the men liked him he was a soldier's soldier and a rouge, he had a quick smile and a dirty humour and he fought like a demon when the time came. Rossner couldn't help feel like a brother to the young captain, 'Come on sir lets go check the sentries'.
They had been led into a cellar, not a dark damp cellar but a warm, dry and well lit cellar. A heavy set man had opened the door when Louis had spoken the correct password and hurried them all into the cellar, where they now sat being fussed over by a large motherly French woman who dished out some steaming onion soup. Dumbledore wolfed it down gratefully and talked to the man who had let them in.
'So Maurice what has been happening in the town?' asked Dumbledore setting down his now empty soup bowl.
Maurice did not answer right away but paused to pull out a long exotic pipe that he proceeded to light with his wand, watched in awe by Louis.
'Well they've bought in at least five wizards and two witches and you were right they've captured Aberforth I saw them take him inside yesterday evening with two of the others.' Dumbledore shuddered at this news he blamed himself for Aberforth's capture. 'And there's been another development, this morning Greenhorn arrived and he's begun the interrogations, we're running out of time.'
Dumbledore frowned at this new information it complicated everything, the plan had been simple when it had meant taking on thirty or so muggle soldiers and a few of Grindelwald's lesser cronies but now they would have to take on Greenhorn a formidable wizard who had until a year a ago had been Head of the Auror division. It seemed that Dumbledore was not the only one troubled.
'Damn it, Greenhorn he's bloody dangerous what we going to do Alb we'll be hard pressed to keep this quiet,' said the bearded and scarred wizard. His name was Archie Macklin and as fierce as his face suggested, he had attended Hogwarts with Dumbledore or Alb as he called him. His family were a clan in Scotland who had a long lineage in both the muggle and magical worlds. He though in a blazing fury against the followers of Grindelwald that was born from hatred forged many years before.
Dumbledore sighed and felt all hope of saving his brother seemed to collapse with the arrival of Greenhorn. It would be too risky and might endanger the town, so it the plan must be abandoned.
'What if one of us could get inside, and take out Greenhorn, or better yet if we can get hold of Greenhorn and his bodyguards we can go in as him!' piped up Dumbledore's third companion. It was easy to know what family the man came from with his lanky frame, freckles and bright red hair. Bilius Weasley had only been allowed on this trip because of his actions at Hogwarts during the attack three weeks before. He had only just finished school this term and at seventeen, and five months as he kept stating, he was only a year older than Louis.
Dumbledore smiled at Bilius who was till full of youthful optimism and was about to squash his hopes when Louis interrupted. 'That might not be to difficult monsieur if….' Louis trailed of in embarrassment of his own boldness. 'Please carry on my lad,' encouraged Dumbledore.
'Well monsieur, the SS commander the one you called Greenhorn goes for a run every morning through the woods on the outskirts of town, he only travels with his two bodyguards, they are completely alone, and we know the route and an excellent ambush site.' Louis rushed through his description and went red as the all the eyes in the room focused on him.
'It worth a try Alb' said Macklin. 'Yes I agree, but we need to do it soon in the morning if possible. Maurice can you arrange for some muggle help in apprehending them and also a safe place to hold them.' Maurice nodded his assent and left the room to make the arrangements. Dumbledore looked at the three men and smiled at the looks of excitement on their faces. 'And the rest of us must get some sleep we'll need to get up in a few hours.' He waved his wand and the lights went out.