[OOC] "We Shall Fight On The Landing Grounds"

[Sturmgeschutz]

"We Shall Fight On The Landing Grounds"



May 20, 1941.

Air raid sirens across the island of Crete merge to create a hellish orchestra, for in the clear skies above, comes a huge swarm of German Junkers Ju 52 and their accompanying gliders. This attack is an ambitious one, and the Fuhrer has gambled on the ability of his Fallschirmjäger to single handily defeat the island’s defenders without the aid of heavy weapons or armoured support.

With the Royal Navy holding the water ways, German reinforcements by sea are not forthcoming. The Luftwaffe, though dominant in the sky, is a weak stand in for Germany’s reliance on mechanised and mobile warfare. If the Third Reich wishes to prevail here, then it will need to secure the island’s airfields in order to bring in sufficient reinforcements needed to overwhelm the defenders.

The Allies holding Crete, formed up of British, Australian, New Zealand and Greek units of varying states of operational capacity, knew this assault was coming in advance. Their anti-aircraft batteries are more than ready to receive, though many of them are antiquated.

The JU 52s, piloted by brave and skilled men of the Reich, are immediately hit with an awesome display of ground fire. Tracers riddle the sky, striking out at the cumbersome transports left and right; dozens plummet to the earth in a fiery blaze. As the defenders cheer, believing for a moment that they can beat this assault before it ever has a chance to really happen, the Fallschirmjäger jump from their craft. Suddenly, the air is no longer thick with hundreds of hulking aircraft, but with thousands of parachutes.

The Allies scramble to defend their positions. Some, especially the Commonwealth soldiers, are well armed and are experienced in matters of war. Others, like the Greek army and Crete’s inhabitants, rely on a wide range of almost laughably antiquated equipment; for a brief period in time, the musket makes a return to the battlefield.

This battle is just beginning, and yet, to some it seems it is already over.

The Players, Their Starting Area, and Their Objectives

The players of the RP assume the roles of soldiers operating in the Commonwealth and Greek military. Additionally, players may assume the roles of the Crete inhabitants, whom at the time were able to provide an arguable backbone to the Allied front. Regardless of nationality or equipment, they form a mish-mash platoon slammed together in the chaos of the assault. They are linked to the British 14th Infantry Brigade’s headquarters.

We’re to assume that there are around 30-40 NPC soldiers in the platoon, to make up background noise. NPCs may be ordered around, and man handled by players at will. The NPCs, like the players, will be a motley crew of Cretan, Greek and Commonwealth fighters.

The RP will start as the players arrive on the western edge of Heraklion, disembarking from a sputtering Breda-32. The scene will be one of chaos, as Allied soldiers run to and throe, shooting at the incoming paratroopers, and manning the anti-air batteries against the JU 52s, and fleets of gliders. This airborne assault is the second to hit the island (the first striking further west), and is happening some hours after the first.

Shortly after, the German Fallschirmjäger, having made it to the ground, will assemble and launch an attack against the players’ position. Historically, the Germans broke through the defensive perimeter, took the western parts of the town (including the Greek barracks) and the docks, before being repulsed by an Allied counter attack. In the RP however, things will go as the players decide.

The players’ objectives, therefore, are to prevent where possible a German advance into the town, and to join all counter-offensive operations ongoing in the area.

Historical Fiction

Historically, the Commonwealth lost the Battle of Crete in their customary early-war manner of failing to see the tactical situation unfold, and reacting to it in inappropriately.

The Germans took heavy losses on the first day, at both of their main landing points: (East side of the island) Heraklion and (west side of the island) Maleme. They failed to capture any of their objectives, although they did hold them briefly before the Commonwealth and the Greeks pushed them out.

On day two, the British commander saw fit to yield the airfield at Maieme to the Germans, believing their main assault would come from the sea. The Germans, being the smart bastards that they were, used the airfield to bring in reinforcements. The British commander, having a second opportunity to thwart his retardation, decided against counter attacking the airfield with significant forces. This further allowed the Germans to use their ... um... cunning, and deploy even more troops. This led to the rapid withdrawal of Commonwealth derp forces from the island.

In this RP, the British commander Bernard Freyberg may realise the implications of yielding Maieme airfield and order a desperate counter attack, meaning the players jump on whatever transport is available and high tail it to the opposite end of the island. But we'll get to that.

Additionally, the Germans may overrun Heraklion and a similar situation may emerge there. Players are given full power (within reason) to divert the cause of history in this respect. The battle does not have to end in an Allied defeat, is what I'm getting at.

Character Sheet

Name:
Gender: (Females permitted for Cretans only)
Nationality: British, Australian, New Zealander, Greek or Cretan.
Age:
Physical Appearance:
Rank: Caps at Staff Sergeant
Weapon and Ammunition: i.e Lee Enfield MK3 | 25 x 303.
Brief Background: A paragraph or two will suffice. Just sum your guy/guyette’s life up prior to the battle.

[Dinh AaronMk]

Name: William Hans Gröber vonKöln
Gender: Male
Nationality: German
Age: 37
Physical Appearance: A tall broad figure, he leans forward with a startling ferocity. His steep angular forehead and sharp jutting nose make him look more like some animal than a man. Something made only more apparent by his shaved hair.
Rank: Scharführer
Weapon and Ammunition: Luger P08 and MP41
Brief Background: William was born in the German city of Cologne in April of 1904 to the daughter of a factory manager and a locally respected doctor. With his two brothers and his sister he lived plush and fat in their serene townhouse in southern Cologne. As a youth, William would often run through the neighborhood streets, following the police officers about their duties. This later extended to following and watching soldiers by the outbreak of the First World War. The sight and manner of the army of the German Empire inspired young William, who would often spend much of his days playing army with his siblings.

Things soured at the end of the First World War however. With the surrender of Germany to the allied forced and the dissolution of the Empire and the rise of the Republic the national economy took a dive, taking with it the fortunes of William's family. Her father loosing money, William's mother was quickly cut off from any sort of allowance of formality from her father. And with so few people able to afford it, his father lost patients. Before his eyes his family grew destitute to the Republic's mismanagement. They often had to use Deutschmarks to heat their house at night. Literally burning money.

The destitution of the inter-war years served to radicalize William and he joined the NSDAP with his brothers in 1924. A year later his fervor for the Fascist principles of Adolf Hitler and his followers tempted him to join the newly formed Schutzstaffel.

In the Schutzstaffel he found honor among his brethren and grew close to much of the rank and file of the SS. So much so that William often hesitantly accepted promotion, or respectably declined if it meant promoting out of rank with his comrades. This action often put William in the line of fire many times as he stubbornly stayed in the rank and file, slowly advancing through the ranks and operating in a wide variety of theaters and operations. From a battle-field participant to a SS police officer on the beat, he did it all. Seeking out dangers to the glorious Reich and carrying out orders, never once questioning why.

He became storied and respected among many of the officers who saw promise in William if he simply accepted promotion. It became apparent to get him to move up his comrades would need to do the same. This small inconsequential faction began to petition for the promotion of William's partners to lighten the anchor. As his original squad-mates scattered across Nazi-occupied Europe he found himself easily sailing through the ranks.

As a Standartenjunker he was offered a mission he was told would make him a formal officer. A heavy financial package was attached as well. The case – the mission – was never disclosed to anyone but William and the commanders who issued it. In December of 1939 he abandoned his former identity of William Hans Gröber vonKöln and became Dougal McAffroy, a Scottish private. He was deployed to England for the rest of 1940 and on to May of 1941 returned to the European mainland, having finished his mission.

On return he did not immediately receive his package, and was quickly redeployed to Greece to back the offensive there.

[Squrmy]

I'm interested in this. Still got room?

[FourtyTwo]

Name: Scott Patrick Harris
Gender: Male
Nationality: New Zealander (ANZAC)
Age: 22
Physical Appearance: Scott is a fairly well built lad, being slightly tanned yet mostly pale in skin color, with brown eyes and brown, short hair, standing around 6"3. He can usually be seen wearing a green boonie, or British nicknamed "Giggle" hat, and a standard British khaki green uniform, and usually can be wearing a shirt, shorts and a primitive load bearing harness, for ammunition and grenades, like many of his counterparts. He has a fairly tactile pair of boots, perhaps in far better nick than most soldiers', and a few cuts and bruises. In particular, due to general clumsiness on the way out of Corinth, he received a shallow cut in his left arm, and hence has a bandage still left on, leaving it for the moment being.

Rank: Sergeant
Weapon and Ammunition:
-Sten MkI
-8x 30 Round Magazines, 9x19mm Parabellum

-Webley Mk IV Revolver
-2x 6 Round Magazines, .38-200 British

2x Mills Bomb "Pineapple" Grenades

Brief Background:
Dictatorship naturally arises out of democracy, and the most aggravated form of tyranny and slavery out of the most extreme liberty.
Plato
"And you could say right there, Plato understood Hitler." Scott

Born in Auckland, New Zealand, Scott was born into an already militaristic family, though his mother was a primary school teacher. It was his father being a soldier in the ANZAC Expeditionary Forces who fought in the Battle of Gallipoli that Scott always looked up to, and wished to follow at some point, his study of Ancient Greek first to mind however and something that he wished to undergo as a degree, from his mother's tales of Socrates and Plato's theories. The experience of the Med was something Scott never saw he'd see if that was his path, but following his own recruitment into the New Zealand Army at the outbreak of war, he did just that. Before this time, he had done well in school, and was going to go to university- but the war saw different to that. The Japanese threat was something that did scare him, but he wasn't deployed to fight them. His division was off to fight the Germans, and like his father, he was off to the Aegean, as a part of the New Zealand Expeditionary Forces- which was again, like his father's unit before him, to become a part of the ANZAC.

He was deployed to the Battle of Greece, or Unternehmen Marita as it was known to the German invaders. He was a part of the larger 2nd New Zealand Division, particularly in the 5th Infantry Brigade, 21st Infantry Battalion that reinforced the Greek Army- though the German spearhead punctured any defensive that the Allies put up. Following a botched evacuation from Corinth to Crete, Scott was promoted to Corporal, following the loss of a handful of section leaders on the way out. The situation, even Scott can see, has gone to shit. He has accepted that on Crete, the war may take a very different path- there is no more running on a golden isle, where the local populace themselves are even armed, to stop the German thorn from pushing this last island into enemy hands. If Scott knows anything, it's that there are no more islands to retreat towards after this battle- and that there is either evacuation to Africa, or resistance. Like the Greek plays that Scott has studied, it's a setting for some drama.

---

Name: Dimitri Costas
Gender: Male
Nationality: Greek (Cretan)
Age: 20
Physical Appearance:
Dimtiri stands at about 5"11, with a fairly olive skin and black hair as you would find on many Greeks in this part of the world. He has a fairly stocky build, and seems healthier than most, perhaps due to the fish-based diet and intensive work he had as a fisherman before he joined in fighting. He seems to have a few cuts and bruises, like most, and can usually be seen wearing a British-donated basic uniform with Greek insignia, comprising of a green shirt and shorts, with a small pack and a load bearing vest to boot. He wears a simple Steel helmet, with a netting attached, if at any point any shrubbery is required to be added as a camouflage. One distinguishing feature of Dimitri is the anchor that is tattooed onto his back- something he received just before the outbreak of war, by a visiting tattoo artist in Heraklion- something that many people did not opt for. While some would consider it perhaps a tattoo associated with the navy, for him it is his relation to the sea, a person who fishes, that it reminds him of, and sets him apart.

Rank: Private First Class (Future Resistance Cell Leader?)
Weapon and Ammunition:
-Bren MkII
-7x 30 Round Magazines, .303 British

Brief Background:

"We will fight them on the landing grounds? Shit, they're fucking falling out the sky! Last time I checked, that wasn't a landing ground!" Dimitri

Dimitri was born in Myrina, Lemnos- an island at the time that was recently made a Greek entity following decades of occupation and rule by the Ottoman Empire, and truly brought itself into the Hellenic world. He was brought up stoically Greek Orthodox, and his father was a fisherman, originally hailing from Crete- while his mother was a housewoman, and took care of Dimitri and his siblings. They moved to Crete when his grandparerents fell ill, to help care for them, and hence, Dimitri would really consider himself a Cretean in this respect, though he always did appreciate the mountains of Lemnos. He joined his father as a fisherman at 14, ditching any further education, and was always quite courageous, or somewhat able to lend a hand when needed in the worst of the Aegean storms. Dimitri didn't enlist when the war broke out- he was too young, and his parents relied on him to help keep the family's trade in fish going.

The Invasion brought his two older brothers to fight for the Greek Army, and the news reached them of their deaths when the British and Commonwealth, as well as any Greek forces managed to evacuate themselves to Crete. He felt angered, and joined up in the local militia as a result, particularly into the 1st Greek Regiment, of which was swiftly attached to the 5th New Zealand Infantry Brigade that Scott was also in. The regiment, despite usually being armed poorly with anything that came to hand prior to their arrival on Crete, was now relatively well provided for due to British donations of equipment, and Dimitri found himself a good leader of a small number of Cretean men within a fireteam. He was adept at carrying around the heavy Bren Gun, and while not being standard Greek equipment, on Crete, it was a weapon he'd put to good use. Dimitri's promotion was for the same reason that Scott's unit had seen in Corinth- a poor evacuation of officers had left a gap in NCOs, and his role as a Lance Corporal. Dimitri wishes that this isn't a fight that will ultimately be lost. But the sheer number of paratroops and the state of the defenders, already makes him think about the aftermath of such an invasion. And that he will fight to keep his homeland clear, even if there is a sea of German soldiers rather than cod in the Aegean around Crete, even if the rest of the Allied forces leave.

[ONL]

Name: Alexios Stathos
Gender: Male
Nationality: Greek
Age: 50
Physical Appearance: Alexios stands at an average height of 1.77m tall, is well built for a man of his age. Then again one can argue that the hard labour he's done has helped his health, if it only had helped his hair from turning grey and slowly fall off his head. He has the typical olive skin of the Greeks, a well-trimmed moustache and a set of two brown eyes that are as sharp as ever. He also wears an old, red, Ottoman fez which he has sewed medals and marks on, including the Greek flag and the Orthodox Cross.
Rank: Sergeant.
Weapon and Ammunition: Mannlicher-Schönauer rifle, 8x 6.5×54mm.
Walther P38 pistol, 5x 9×19mm Parabellum.

Brief Background: Alexios was born in a typical fishing-village on Corfu, his mother a tailor and his father an orthodox priest. His family, consisting of his parents, two sisters and three brothers including himself, was raised as devoted Christians, and always told to cherish the freedom they had in an independent Greece. Nothing of interest happening during Alexios's childhood, and it seemed that he would follow his father's footsteps in becoming a priest. He had studied, and failed his exams twice, when the news broke out that Greece was at war; With the Young Turkish Revolution just happening, the Balkan kingdoms of Montenegro, Bulgaria, Serbia and Greece sent an ultimatum to Constantinople to retreat her forces from the Balkans. When it was declined, the respective countries declared war, and The First Balkan War had begun.

Alexios eagerly joined the Greek army under command of Prince Constantine I., and participated in the successful campaign against the Turkish army as they fought their way into Macedonia. Alexios first distinguished himself as an excellent marksman, earning him a medal and a promotion, even going as far as being issued a new rifle. As the war, first against the Turks and then against the Bulgarians, came to an end, he did his best to return to his clergy education, but failing the exam once again before giving up on it. Instead he began working within transport, driving trucks with cargo all across Greece, especially in the newly liberated northern lands. When Greece joined the Allies in the Great War, Alexios once again joined the army and fought against the Central Power forces, primarily Bulgaria and the Ottoman Empire.

He continued to fight in the army during the Greco-Turkish war, and returned home after the Greek forces were defeated by their long-time enemy. And with no wars to participate in, Alexios resumed his work as a cargo driver much of his life, until the Italians and Germans came. Leaving his family behind, his wife and lone daughter, he made his way to Athens, and was transferred to the 1st Greek Regiment alongside other Greek men of all ages. At Crete, they would either stop the German invaders, or die trying.

[Polyphemus]

Name: William Staice

Gender: Male

Nationality: British

Age: 19

Physical Appearance: Staice is small and wiry, shorter and thinner than average. With his dark hair and olive complexion he might pass for Greek, though this is his first time outside Merseyside. He never quite seems to be shaved to military standard, and at the moment is sporting a bit of stubble. His khakis are also dirty and ill-maintained as well, and he seems to have misplaced his tin hat.

Rank: Private

Weapon and Ammunition: Lee-Enfield Mk III, 20 rounds .303 British, 2 Mills bombs, bayonet

Brief Background: Will Staice hasn't done too much with his life. With a vanished mother and an alcoholic father, as a child he simply wandered the streets of Liverpool, getting into trouble and making the odd shilling through petty theft or graft. When the war broke out, it stirred something previously unknown in Will- not necessarily patriotism, but more indignity. He didn't care to see the people of his country pushed around. He signed up for the Army, reasoning that squaddies were at least supposed to get clothes and food, things that were getting hard to come by for an uneducated and unemployed lad. The Army promptly shipped him off to Crete, which Will reckoned a pretty good posting, at least until Jerries started falling out of the fucking skies and he got separated from his company in the confusion. A few hours of blindly wandering through olive groves dropped him into the welcoming arms of the irregular platoon, who needed every man who might hold a rifle.

[Sturmgeschutz]

Squrmy said
I'm interested in this. Still got room?

It sure has.

This RP will start tomorrow, to give people the chance to show interest, or for those who have already posted their apps, to make any final changes.

[FourtyTwo]

(I don't like Stalin, BTW. Study him and you begin to understand why...)

[FourtyTwo]

Also, I feel like there's an awesome sort of set of characters. I was thinking of making a Canuck as well, because I suffer from Roleplaying multiple character disorder, but eh, I think I'll leave that for someone else.

[Dinh AaronMk]

Horse warning

mfw only German.

[Maxwell57]

Name:
William Maxwell
Gender:
Male
Nationality:
British
Age:
18
Physical Appearance:
Tall, Broad shoulders, thick arms, red hair, freckles acrossed his nose and cheeks, gray/ blue eyes, light stubble on his chin
Rank:
Pvt.
Weapon and Ammunition:
Primary-
Lee Enfield No.1 Mk.III
9x10 mag 303. British
Secondary-
Webley Revolver
3x6 .38
Melee-
Small hatchet, Standard bayonet, and his sharpened entrenching tool
Brief Background:
William grew up in the small town of Dunkfeld just North of Perth. He spent most of his time working on his families sheep farm. When he wasn't working William was trying to catch up on his studies. William was never the brightest kid and often had trouble in school but it was thanks to his sweet heart Anne that he passed, Anne being the one that did most of his school work. By the time he was near graduation he knew that there would be war and just like any other boy with hopes of being a war hero he enlisted. He had always seen himself as a soldier one day and often played army when he was younger with his siblings pretending the sheep to be IRA affiliates. He was assigned to the 14th Infantry 1st Battalion the Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders a proud bunch of drunkards and louts, With in 11 months time he was already being shipped off to fight in Greece some place called Crete.

[ONL]

Damn ponies, they're everywhere!

And I warn you all, Alexios is going to rant quite a lot about Turks, Bulgarians, Austrians/Hungarians, Italians and Germans. You have been warned, do not mention sauerkraut, Pizza or Kebab, or else he'll shove a gyro down your throat :P

[Maxwell57]

Oh my

[Sturmgeschutz]

Dinh AaronMk said
William Hans Gröber vonKöln:

Accepted.

On a special note, Dinh's character will bring an unexpected... twist to the plot line, that will take a sledge hammer to historical accuracy - but in a good way.

You'll all see what I'm referring to once things get under way.

kingkonrad said
Scott Patrick Harris + Dimitri Costas

Nice pair of characters. Future cell leader is a strong possibility

ONL said
Alexios Stathos

Accepted, nice work.

Polyphemus said
William Staice

Another good entry.

Maxwell57 said
William Maxwell

Accepted.

---

Well, now we have a good roster of players, I believe it's time to get things rolling.

I'll post my character here first, who will serve as the platoon's commanding officer (This'll give me some inside GM powers if the story progression starts lagging). After that, I'll get the first post up and off we go :D

Shouldn't be too long.

[Sturmgeschutz]

Name: Myles Hedger

Gender: Male

Nationality: British

Age: 47

Physical Appearance: Myles is the epitome of your average British officer. A plain face, devoid of emotion. A fine moustache, trimmed to the finest detail. Statuesque eyes that don't immediately have an obvious colour, due to their unwavering ability to stare a man to death (though they're actually a shade of dark brown). He's aged well, and despite being forty seven years old, when he offers the right pose, he could be considered handsome. His short greying blonde hair can barely be seen beneath his officer's cap.

As far as clothing goes, he wears the standard smart trim uniform of a British officer, and as can perhaps be expected, you'd be hard pressed to find a crease.

Rank: Second Lieutenant

Weapon and Ammunition: Enfield No. 2 Revolver | x 36 380 // Steel capped walking cane.

Brief Background:

TL;DR He's a scheming coward who constantly finds ways of avoiding deadly situations, bar a few exceptions.

Long Story

Myles Hedger is a man who enjoys an easy liife of calculated certainties. Educated, and coming from a family of military tradition, it was perhaps natural that Myles enlisted in the British Expeditionary Forces at the outbreak of the Great War. Thanks to a few family favours, and an abundance of money, he easily assimilated himself into the Army's officer class.

Myles was not known as a brave man, but he was known as a schemer. Despite serving on the Western Front for the full four years, he saw combat only once. Many of his peers noted his almost ingenious ability to exploit the very meagre loopholes that existed, enabling himself to be pardoned from several of the large scale offensives. It was a shameful way for any officer of the Crown to exist, but Myles was an intelligent man, and saw no reason to die like a dog when he could reap the rewards of a full career in the British Army.

As the Great War came to an end, Myles sought out a new direction in the military, and one that suited him down to the ground: quartermaster to the Royal Artillery, where he spent over a decade counting supplies for an army designed for peace. The pay was good, and so were the privileges. His colleagues knew him as a rather slimy individual, often going out of his way to point out their errors, to make himself look better by comparison. This behaviour earned him few friends, but it did earn him the appreciation he wanted from his superiors.

Things quickly deteriorated for him from there.

In Norway, he was appointed Second Lieutenant to a platoon under the British 146th Infantry Brigade. This appointment was officially explained by the British Army's need for experienced officers, but unofficially, he'd pissed off too many people. They wanted to watch him wither and die in the boiling cauldron of battlefield command.

Unsurprisingly, he led his men with his customary cowardice. Always, it was his men to withdraw first in the face of the advancing Germans - often when he was told to be the last - and more than once, he found an excuse to avoid taking part in a counter attack. His constant stream of excuses irked Major General Adrian Carton de Wiart, who demoted Myles to Sergeant and placed him in another platoon, under the command of a "real" officer.

At the battle for Steinkjer, Myles performed surprisingly well (perhaps motivated by his sense for self-preservation). He was credited with the destruction of two Panzer III's, though many believe there is more to the story.

In France, Myles was transferred to another unit, under another commander. His time in the country was spent mostly on the beaches of Dunkirk, where he made it known to as many people as he could, that he manned an AA gun despite it not being his designation. His shameless attempt at a PR stunt had him serving on Dunkirk's perimeter defences, where he was lucky to survive on several occasions.

There were some rumours that he misled some French soldiers about their evacuation orders, thus enabling himself to depart the country - rather than stay as part of the rearguard, as had been planned.

In Greece, with the British Army in a desperate position, Myles' spotless record (on paper, in any case), had him thrown into the brief but bloody campaign as a Regimental Sergeant Major. He had little time to enjoy or exploit his new command, and quickly found himself chucked onto the island of Crete, where he was promptly promoted to replace his CO... who had gotten stuck on the Greek mainland and was presumed captured or killed, along with the rest of the platoon.

Myles' new platoon, made up from a series of shattered Commonwealth and Greek units, as well as Cretan nationals, is far from a refreshing change for him. Upon hearing of the Germans' imminent attack, he was already eyeing the Royal Navy ships docked off the island's coastline.

[Squrmy]

I'll start on a sheet soon - going to make either an Australian or a Belfastian Loyalist. Probably both, actually (be true to both my Irish roots and my now-Australian-ness :P). We are limited to playing Allies, right?

[Sturmgeschutz]

Squrmy said
I'll start on a sheet soon - going to make either an Australian or a Belfastian Loyalist. Probably both, actually (be true to both my Irish roots and my now-Australian-ness :P). We limited to playing Allies, right?

That is correct.

[Squrmy]

Alrighty. And this was just.. a mix-matched moosh of Commonwealth Forces on the island, historically - or were there groups/platoons of each nation on the island when the battle kicked off? I'm not very well versed in the smaller battles of WW2 (I'm more Eastern Front, as we studied Russia last year in High School), so sorry for my lack of knowledge!

[Sturmgeschutz]

That's right.

So there were actually 11,000 Greek troops and 25-30,000 from the Commonwealth.

The wider situation involves the fall of Greece itself, where thousands of Commonwealth soldiers were evacuated from the mainland to Crete, presenting Allied command with some very muddled units (though not in all cases) with mixed equipment. A good ten thousand of them didn't have weapons to fight with. Throw into mix thousands of Cretans.

Obviously the various nationalities had their own units, including : the New Zealand 2nd Division, the 6th Brigade and division headquarters; the Australian 19th Brigade Group; and the British 14th Infantry Brigade.

In the RP, players form a mixed-nationality platoon that's been created from a range shattered units and Cretan nationals to bolster the defences. An auxiliary platoon, if you will.

[Polyphemus]

Okay, I just want to make sure I understand this- we're in an alternate history where Winston Churchill was assassinated by a German agent?