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Stories are not related in any way.
World War II Inspired Ideas
June, 1944. Northern France.
D-Day, June 6th 1944 will forever be remembered as 'Death-Day' for the Allies. Thousands of American, British, and Canadian casualties lay on the beaches of Normandy, bodies torn to pieces amongst the bloody carnage. Many of the fallen will be washed out to sea by the rising tide. For the Axis, it is a major victory and will surely deter the Allies from attempting another attack on Fortress Europe. For the French, it means stiff reprisals as the Partisans are exposed during the the battle and can not be protected by the Allied Armies. For the American Paratroopers, the failure of the beach landings is a death sentence.
Northern France is in turmoil in the immediate aftermath of D-Day, local German Commanders looking to route out the scattered groups of Paratroopers that remain and to hunt down the Partisans who have caused major damage through the night. If the French lived in fear of the Germans before, now they are afraid to step outdoors as the Germans seek reprisals against the locals.
Enter an American Paratrooper, wounded and running low on ammunition, stranded in a country behind enemy lines with no pretense of rescue being feasible. Does he turn himself in? Does he risk getting shot in the process or in captivity? Or does he try to continue the fight, bringing his own skills to the ranks of the Partisans. Death is out of the question of course, but what good is he acting alone?
Enter the French Girl, the hope of freedom smashed by the brutality of the Germans counterattack. Knowing of the Partisans, but not part of them due to her parents wishes. Her brother lays dead in a ditch, part of a Partisan group caught and executed by the Germans in a failed attempt to secure a crossroads for the incoming Allied forces who never arrived. Stricken by grief, she vows revenge and discovers the wounded American in her families orchard where he has collapsed. She knows the Germans will kill her and her family if she helps the American, but what choice does she have?
-Looking for a French Girl-
December, 1942. Stalingrad, Russia.
The might of the German army has crushed Stalingrad to the ground. Literally. The once proud-city, bearing the name of Joseph Stalin, has been leveled to the ground in the fierce fighting that tore through its Industrial center. Millions lie frozen in death even as the harsh Russian Winter claims even more lives. The Volga river has been crossed by the German Army who know use Stalingrad as a supply depot, waiting out the winter before making another summer push deeper into Soviet Lands.
There are few Russians left in Stalingrad, scrapping out of the bottom of the barrel to survive amongst the rubble that was once their homes. Gunfire occasionally rips through the night, though whether Partisans have moved into the city or if its the remnants of lost Russian Soldiers continuing the fight is unclear.
Enter the Russian Survivor, once a soldier fighting the Germans, now a Partisan fighting for survival. She came to Stalingrad like many who now lie dead, shipping to the front by railway, given little in the way of weapons or ammunition or gear. For the Russian soldiers like her, it was a fight for survival from the very beginning...avoiding the attention of the Commissars, picking up weapons and ammunition and supplies from the dead, surviving the mass attacks on German positions that were like cattle sent to the slaughter. The things she has seen will live with her forever and constantly feed her hatred for the Germans. But for one to survive amongst the Germans, one must do things they would rather not - consort by day, partisan by night.
-Looking for a Russian Survivor-
Summer, 1942. The Pacific.
Things had gone from bad to worse. The Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor was devastating, but not nearly as devastating as the Battle of Midway. The American Admirals had made a gamble and had lost the majority of their carriers. It was a resounding victory for the Japanese and Midway Island had fallen into Japanese hands days later. The Americans had been whooped, and whooped big time. Their Pacific fleet was in shambles, virtually no operational Carriers and even less aircraft.
Most of the Midway planes - those that weren't shot down - had to ditch in the ocean. A few lucky ones had even managed to put down near Islands, but there was no way of telling how many had even made it that far alive - let alone survive landing a plane in an ocean!
Enter the American Flight Leader, the last of his wing to still be in the air. Fuel gauge reading empty, his navigator dead, and with no idea if he was even flying in the right direction, it was time to bail out. Spotting an Island below (and below wasn't all that far, as his damaged plane had been losing altitude for the past few hours) he decides to crash land on an expanse of beach exposed by a timely low-tide. There were no signs of civilization that he could see, he just hoped that there was an Island Watcher stationed on it or nearby. He sent out a final distress call before sliding back the canopy - he didn't want to risk it jamming if the plane caught fire - and steers in the plane for a final approach. The landing went about as smooth as one could expect, the sand cushioning the impact and starting to slow him down, until his wing hit a palmtree, breaking it off and flipping the plane into a brief tumble. Lights out.
Enter the Island Watcher, stationed alone on an Island with a hand-powered radio-set to monitor Japanese shipping activity through the nearby channels and to watch for downed airmen. Her last scheduled check in had revealed a 'major operation' in her area so she had been vigilant looking to the skies, looking for the telltale trails of smoke that would reveal planes in trouble. Fortuneately, she didn't see any until late in the day, when a solitary plane crested the horizon and headed in her general direction. She could tell it was dropping steadily, but it only turned directly towards her island at the last minute, making a beeline for the beach. She hurried down to the wreckage, hoping for survivors.
-Looking for an Island Watcher-
Sometime in 1943. Somewhere over the Pacific.
The Dakotas' engines were a constant, throbbing vibration as the aircraft flew over picturesque Islands and tropical Paradises. The War in the Pacific had come to a standstill that was on the verge of tipping in one sides favor as both gathered supplies, men, aircraft, and ships for what would be the decisive moment in the campaign.
On board, the Dakota multi-purpose plane was carry a mixed cargo. Food, clean water, supplies, three green recruits and a Nurse returning from leave. The Pilot and copilot are both skilled pilots but are caught unawares when a lone Zero attacks out of the sun. There is little they can do to avoid the fighter and soon both engines sputter to a standstill, one bursting on fire. The following crash into a jungle-covered island is devastating.
Enter the Green Recruit, fresh out of basic and on his way to the hot pacific. He is only one of two survivors of the crash and has no idea what happened, only that things were fine one moment and the next they were spiraling back down to earth. Stunned and dazed, he stumbles from wreckage, unsure of himself and his surroundings, training never having prepared him for this.
Enter the Veteran Nurse, the only other survivor of the crash. Her initial instinct is to check for survivors and once she frees herself from the wreckage that is what she does, only to find all but one dead. She knows she will have to rely on the Green recruit as they make their way from the crash site to the beach. Neither of them realize how desperate their situation is on what is apparently an abandoned island that won't be quiet for much longer.
-Looking for a Veteran Nurse-