Dimitri looked up, to Myles, and then to Alexios.
"I'll have my Bren back, if that's okay with you Sergeant." He simply said, nodding his head to the weapon, as he looked to the weapon, which had kept fairly fixed, not being skilled at using it but being able to at least load 40mm clips and fire them at a rough angle at the sky, which had irritated the enemy. If they were moving, Dimitri was with Alexios, and he wanted to at least have his weapon back- even though it was in a better nick than Alexios's dated Steyr-Mannlicher. Once he got his gun back, he moved up, heading to a Pine, as he then got down by it's side, and flipped down the bipod on the Sten, a heavy mechanism that went and plonked itself onto the floor. Picking it up, and chambering a new magazine, Dimitri aimed and fired down range, aiming for supression rather than accurate fire, aware that this was a SAW- not a LMG. It was a Squad Automatic Weapon- a weapon that fired rapidly and quickly down range. A pair of Paratroops were in his sights- and before they got to fire back with their Lugers, before making a dash, they were sliced apart, Dimitri aware that he could only keep up a particular level of firepower. They were doing very well for the moment- but this was a disorganized and off-guard team of Fallschirmjager. Together, that was when they were lethal. The fire from the Bren stopped with the end of the magazine, with which Dimitri pulled the weapon in and brought up, pulling the magazine out. A new one found it's way in, with bullets riddling his posiition, just somehow hoping that they didn't find target on his new cover, and that the rest of the section would open up.

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Scott looked over, to his team in particular, nestled in the hedgerow and any other cover that could be scraped from it.
"Fuck, Myles better follow suit. If he sticks back with his section, then he ain't going. We're in the thrust of it now, it's his turn. Or those Greeks." He said, as he looked over to his section, watching the area ahead for any more paras, aware that he had semi-spoken to himself. He had a habit of doing this- but he knew that it wasn't anything big, if someone was at least listening. A couple moved up as the noise of MG34 made Scott duck, as bullets whistled at the tree overhead, the Sten's aim quick in his hands as he sprayed into the area, before breathing, and exhaling again, getting his nerve. Gunner was right of them, 100m. Easy shot, right in the shrubs. The Sten rattled, and the man took some steel to the head, dead in his prone position.
"Bugger, if the platoon's got a M1919, we could do with it here." He simply said, watching the area ahead as he knew that now, they were taking their fair share of fire, and all was well again. They had the initiative...but he felt something was up with Myles. He should have come with Scott, led from the front. Sure, he let Scott do what he knew best...but still, a CO didn't drink, nor did he sit back. He was as fighty as his men. If not more. Worryingly, Scott knew that Myles, while drunk, wasn't exactly the most competent. Perhaps it was a good idea that Scott had things under a vague command. And besides, Bailey wasn't his CO, the man he reported to. He wouldn't get bollocked by him. He kept a good conduct as an NCO, and even if Myles were to pass down a bollocking from Bailey, his equivalent, he'd still be fairly in the clear.