The Channel Pact - Germany&UK Coop AAR

The following events took place February 4, 1943, Berlin, Germany



“Enough!” Infuriated, Hitler slammed his fist onto his desk
“Herr Fuhrer, I assure you that I am doing everything in my power to...”
“Silence!”. Himmler grew silent
Hitler stood up, walking around his office in the Reichstag.
“Is this the famous revolution they promised me? The Third Reich I righteously claimed? Ha! I have an army that won’t even listen to my command, a population that is rebellious and refuses to reform, and my pathetic allies across the Channel are in a state of civil war! Is this the reinstatement of old values? This is chaos! Anarchy!”

“But, what is worst of all” Hitler cramped his fists together, attempting to control the anger within him “is that here. In Berlin, of all places, right under my nose, there is a gathering of generals plotting to overthrow me. They are without supplies, without heavy weaponry and disorganised...” Hitler pointed accusingly at Himmler “Yet your pathetic SS cannot manage to defeat them! This has been going on for a week now! What use is sending more and more troops if they cannot even beat that weak academy!”

Himmler wiped his forehead with a cloth, attempting to keep his cool
“Herr Fuhrer, I have to remind you that this is a delicate situation. We simply cannot go wage open war on the Surpreme Command in broad daylight. It is situated within a residential area and attacking it with full force would lead to a lot of destruction. The people will suspect...”
“Who gives a damn about the people?!” Hitler shouted “I want that Academy bombed flat! Call the artillery, call the Luftwaffe, call the Engineers if you have to, but DESTROY IT!”
Hitler attempted to reply, his voice shaking
“Sir I’m not sure if that...”
“GET THE HELL OUT OF MY FACE!”
Himmler turned around a walked out the double oak doors, his shoulders hanging. Simultaneously, Speer entered the room and shut the doors.

“You requested me, Herr Fuhrer?”
“Yes. The diplomats have written a proposal for peace here, you might want to read it and see if it works.”
Speer picked up the documents and began reading
“This looks good, Herr Fuhrer. The Allies are proposing to cede us as much Russian territory as we want, along with Alsace-Lorraine, and they would agree to accepting our demands in Eastern Europe, in exchange for peace and a full retreat from the East.”
The fuhrer responded “An interesting offer. But what...” Hitler suddenly stopped.

Outside the door, two loud bangs sounded, followed by silence. Speer turned around
“What was that?”
“I have no idea. Go check it out.”
Speer moved towards the silent doors cautiously, as if he was counting each step. He stopped in front of it, and reached for the doorknob. Grasping the cold steel firmly, he turned it to the left, opening the door with a loud metallic click.

Suddenly, the double wooden doors flew open with such brutal force that Speer was thrown back and smacked against a desk. The doors slammed open against the walls so fast that one door broke out of it’s hinges and slammed into a bookcase. Before Hitler had time to even organise a thought, five men entered his office.

Without even looking, the first figure grabbed his pistol and executed Albert Speer in cold blood. He was hit in the head twice with amazing accuracy, and died instantly.
The man walked towards Hitler’s desk, leaning on a cane as he went. He wore a dirty black trenchcoat, damaged army boots and a bonnet that appeared to have been looted from a Russian soldier.

“How dare you break into my office! I will have you arrested!” Hitler pushed the button under his desk and called support, but soon realised nobody was coming: Outside the door he could see the dead bodies of his guards lying in the hallway. Hitler looked at the man, and in terror, realised who was standing before him.

“Good evening, Adolf Hitler, Fuhrer of the Third Reich!” The man spat out his words, blinded by rage. He pushed up his pilotka and looked at Hitler. The dark scar running into his neck gave him the look of an executioner. Van Geyte’s pale blue eyes were rife with pure hatred and fury.

Hitler stumbled back and fell over his chair in panic.
“This is impossible! You are dead!”
“Apparently, Fuhrer, I am not.”
Hitler was too terrified to move. While he was lying besides his desk, the man walked around and picked up the documents on his table. It was if his entire persona burned with anger, a destructive wildfire that was becoming even more volatile by what he was reading.

“Is this...” Van Geyte turned to Hitler, crumbling the paper in his hand “A peace treaty?”
Hitler was too terrified to speak.
“A PEACE TREATY?” Laurence bashed his fist into a bookcase, shattering the inches thick glass like it was porcelain
Hitler mumbled, attempting to crawl back
“It is... nessecary... the German people... what is be...”
“BEST FOR THEM?” Van Geyte rose up like a feral wolf, hungry for prey. As he spoke his words echoed through the Reichstag
“I gave you... everything. I put you in power. I let you be the Fuhrer. The hero of the people. Everything I ever achieved, was attributed to you. TO YOU! And what did I get in return? Tell me, Herr Fuhrer, what did I get in return?” Laurence’s pale blue eyes burned.
Hitler attempted to crawl even more backwards. Just a little more...
“I only did... what was best for the people”
“TREASON! AN ATTEMPT AT MY LIFE! A REVOLUTION! ANARCHY! TREACHEROUS ACTS OF SOMETHING THAT IS NO MAN” Laurence took another step towards Hitler, who slowly reached under a bookcase
“No... no man. Lesser than a man. A beast. A monster. You FASCIST PIG!”
Hitler his hand found what he was looking for. His hands grasped the pistol hidden under the bookcase, which he rapidly pulled out and aimed at the Field marshall.

Laurence was faster. While Hitler pulled the pistol from under the bookcase, a boot rapidly came down upon his hand. Hitler screamed in pain and loosened his grip on the pistol.
Laurence spat on the ground.
“You are a traitor. A traitor to Germany. A Traitor to her empire. A traitor to her people. But more importantly, you are a traiter to ME.”
With amazing force, Laurence turned his boot around. Hitler’s wrist was clamped firmly in it’s destructive grasp, and the bone snapped like wood. Hitler screamed in pain
“You bastard!”
A second boot hit Hitler in the face and threw him over. His nose was broken. The Field Marshall was looking down upon him.
“Here lies Hitler, the great Fuhrer! Stand up you weakling.”
Hitler refused to move. Suddenly, a large hand closed around his throat and lift Hitler from the ground.

Van geyte held Hitler up, nearly choking, and put the barrel of his pistol against his head. The Fuhrer could barely speak, and was running out of air.
“Please... no”
The Field Marshall’s grasp softened, giving the Fuhrer some time to breathe
“Mercy? You ask me for mercy? You annihilate my Party, steal my honour, betray my trust, make an attempt at assassinating me, force me to walk for weeks through a frozen Russian hellhole, kill one of my best friends and now you are asking me for MERCY!?”
“No... Please no”
Van Geyte looked at his pistol
“Don’t worry Fuhrer. I won’t shoot you. It would be a waste of a good bullet”
Van Geyte took his pistol and put it in his pocket.
“No... I have something special planned for you.” The Field Marshall tightened his grip on Hitler’s throat again, and dragged him towards the wide window behind Hitler’s desk. Laurence looked down at the plain, still holding onto the Fuhrer.

Hitler looked at the ground, four stories beneath them, in terror.
“You were at the front during the Great War. Do you remember what we used to do to traitors?”
Laurence his grip tightened again, and he lift Hitler higher, who was now pleading for his life
“No... “
“Adolf Hitler, Fuhrer of the Third Reich. Treason is the path you have chosen, and this is what it has led you to. The world will be better off without you. Goodbye”
“No. NO! NO! OH GOD PLEASE DON’T! NO!”

Four stories lower, Adam Heinkl, a private of the 14th Wehrmacht Garrison division was patrolling the courtyard of the Reichstag. He was forced into conscription, and hated his utterly boring job at the Reichstag where nothing ever happened. He stopped to look at the thin layer of snow that had gathered on his black boots.

Suddenly he heard the sound of a large window shattering, followed by a howling scream that chilled him to the bone. A soft crack sounded on the snow behind him, and Adam covered his head as shards of glass rained down upon him. After it was over, he turned around, his heart pounding

Before him lied Adolf Hitler, leader of the Nazi Party and Fuhrer of Germany. He had been thrown off the fifth story of the Reichstag by Field Marshall Von Geyte. Upon landing he broke his neck, what led to his instant death. Hitler’s eyes were wide open, and held an expression of surprise, as if the man had not expected teh sudden realisation of his own mortality. The legacy of Adolf Hitler, the great dictator of Europe, ended February 4th, 1943.

Laurence stared down onto Hitler’s corpse on the courtyard. With the window gone, the office was now exposed to the frosty Northern winds, cooling the office to an uncomfortable temperature.
A fifth escort entered the room
“Sir”
The Field Marshall turned around “Yes?”
“We haven’t been able to find Himmler. He seems to have escaped.”
Laurence coughed and sat down behind Hitler’s desk. This chair was his now.
“Nevermind him. We will find him eventually”
The sun was setting over Berlin, reminding Van Geyte that the SS would soon begin a new offensive on the Academy.
“Contact all army generals, and find every soldier you can muster. Tell them Van Geyte has returned.”
The Field Marshall grabbed the remaining documents of the peace treaty and tore them to shreds, throwing them through the broken window behind him.
“Whipe out the SS. Execute every officer. Imprison every soldier.”
“And the Gestapo, sir?”
“Kill them all. But make sure to do it quietly. They might have been able to gather some interesting information while they were in power, and I don’t want them to destroy it”
“Yes sir”.
Van Geyte stood up and stared out of the window
“The age of Nazi Germany has ended. We will build a new Germany out of the ashes of the former one. A Greater Germany. A German Empire.”
“Lift the academy siege. Send the 10th Panzergrenadiers to smoke out the SS stationed there. They will be able to reach Berlin by nightfall”
“Yes sir. What will you do now?”
Van Geyte pondered for a while

“Contact the Northern Coast Army, and tell them to assemble in Le Havre. Then, contact the Free Fleets and ask for safe passage in name of the Channel Pact. I set sail for England.”
“Yes sir. We will have a plane waiting for you at Tempelhof.”
“Work fast. Every minute you hesitate is a minute lost.”
Laurence stood up and walked out of the office, followed by two escorts.
“Oh, and fix that window”


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Treckaddict said:

:I call knifefight on top of the Reichstag!

Click to expand...

The following events took place February 4, 1943, Berlin, Germany

It was a dark and cold day in February. Above Berlin, clouds had gathered, black as night, dipping the German capitol in merely more than gloom, while arctic Northern winds chilled the citizens to the bone. A storm had set upon Germany, as freezing rain poured from the heavens and thunder burst from the skies to illuminate the horizon. Van Geyte observed the dark, staunch silhouette of his former capitol as he walked up the many stairs of the Reichstag. In respect for the city which he regarded his own, he took off his pilotka and made a a short affirmative nod towards Berlin. It had been a long and aruduous journey, through the partisan-infested realms of Russia, through endless SS patrols, through Gestapo agents disguised as Russian officers in order to track down and execute nazi opposers. One of them had also been so kind as to wear a nice warm pilotka for Laurence to loot. Van Geyte was not a man of compassion, or even doubt: After the Gestapo officer had recognised him and attempted to run off to warn others, Laurence had been swift as a lion. With brutal force, he had leapt upon the nazi pig, holding down his gun with one hands and brutally snapping his neck with the other. Throughout the journey, it would have become the fate of many that attempted to stand in his way. And now, on this darkest of days, he had arrived in Berlin. It would be this day that the fate of Germany, and the Channel Pact be decided. This day and no other.

The hallways of the German Parliament were frighteningly serene as Van Geyte moved through them, as silent as his surroundings, like a dark ghost moving through the ethereal. Not a single light had been turned on in the entire Reichstag, the dimly lit hallways only occasionally flashed open by a stroke of lightning, as shadows burned themselves in the grey walls. As rain filled the halls of the Reichstag with ticking sounds and waterfalls gently ran down from the windows, Van Geyte made his way upwards, through the endless corridors, throught the swirling stairways. He know where his target would be at this blackest day. For a rat always seeks the light. At last, the Field Marshall had reached his destination. With a potent kick, he bashed open the strong double doors that had been hiding his adversary. As Van Geyte stepped outside, the biting rain immediately drenched his coat, chilling the Field Marshall to the bone as freezing winds sharp as razors cut through the man without hesitation. However, nothing of this could batter the resolve of Van Geyte. Although it was cold and dark, the burning rage inside him warmed his heart and kept him sharp. After the Field Marshall’s eyes had gotten used to the darkness, the could distinctly see a black silhouette at the other side of the roof, overlooking Berlin from the top of the Reichstag. For a rat always seeks the light.

“So... you have come”
Adolf Hitler, Fuhrer of the Third Reich, the Great Dictator, turned around and faced the man he had attempted to vanquish, as reality and alternative reality confronted eachother here, on the top of the Reichstag. Before him stood, beaten but proud, Field Marshall Laurence Van Geyte of the German Empire, the Conqueror of Europe. A flash of lightning illuminated the dark scene again, as the two men slowly moved towards eachother, walking in a circle, awaiting the other to make the first move.
“So it has come to this... herr Van Geyte”
slowly, the men circled around eachother, their hearts pounding
“So it seems, herr Hitler. Your entire life, you have lived in the idea that you were the only right person on earth, and that all opposing you would be easy to eliminate. It is in this, that you have failed. For I am here tonight. I have come for Germany. Your reign of terror ends, now.”
Hitler laughed “My reign of terror? Ha! I have given the population what they want, what they need. I have given them stability, and order. A common enemy to face, one that will unite all of Germany”
Slowly, their gentle dance of death continued, as the men conversed
“I spit on you and your racial politics. Do you believe that there is no equality among men? That we are not born free, strong and equal? Then you are nothing short of a deluded fool, Hitler, a dangerous element needing to be subdued.”
“You are a weak coward, Van Geyte. A weak and feeble coward! The German race is superior, and no other. We have produced the summum of human development. Intelligence, creativity, strength. They are all Teuton traits, and it is stime Germany began to live up to her legacy.”
“Is that truly so? I do not believe in the Teuton race, nor in any race. But I believe in Germany. I believe in England. I believe in this Pact. I believe that we can change the world for the better. And intelligence? Our knowledge has made us cynical, our cleverness hard and unkind. Mechanical abundance has only left us longing for more, stuck in a world rife with hate and desperation. We must change it. We will change it. You have attempted to stop us, and failed. Ironically, it will now be you who is stopped, and not us.”
“You dream long and hard of the Great War, Van Geyte, but you are nothing but a fool. The German Empire is dead, the kaiser is gone, and none of them will ever return. The world you seek is no more.”
“The German Empire will return. Twenty years ago I won the Deutschkrieg. And I will do so again.”
Another bolt of lightning illuminated the face of Hitler, who looked at Van Geyte with in a dark and sinister matter.
“This is my world now, Van Geyte. Your wife and spawn are dead, and have been for years. And when I am done with you here...” Hitler added, with baneful pleasure in his eyes “I shall dance on their graves, personally, to celebrate that the last of your kin, Van Geyte, have been purified from this earth.”

Van Geyte felt as if his body had turned to fire and ice, as his blue eyes pierced through the dark, wet sky, focusing on his opponent. His rage was uncontrollable. A quick kill would not satisfy him. Not tonight.
With a gentle gesture, Van Geyte pulled out his pistol and pointed it towards the head of Hitler, who responded by grabbing his own gun. Without words, Van Geyte flicked a knob on the Luger, after which the magasine fell out and hit the roof with a metallic bonk. Without looking back, Van Geyte hurled his pistol over the edge of the roof, and stood before the Fuhrer unarmed.
“We will do this the old-fasioned way. The honourable way.”
Van Geyte undid his trench coat, as the heavy wet leather dropped onto the roof. As he grabbed his knife, Van Geyte remembered his lessons in close-quarter combat on the Academy. ‘Be anticipating, be foreseeing, be swift.”
Hitler doubted for a while, before finally nodding
“Allright.”
The Fuhrer of the Third Reich threw aside his pistol, and grabbed a Hitlerjugend knife hidden under his shirt, as both men now entered a hunched position, circling eachother.

“I shall truly enjoy killing you” Hitler grinned, as a bolt of lightning gleamed off the blades of the adversaries.
With a potent lunge, Van geyte charged forward and attempted to stab the Fuhrer, as the battle began. Hitler was more agile than he had expected though, as the dictator quickly dove to the side, attempting to come back with a stab in Van geyte’s back, which was warded off by a quick turn and bash. Swiftly, the men circled eachother, slashing and dodging, fighting to the death like feral wolves, as a full moon broke through the ghaslty clouds, shedding it’s blue light on the scene. With a roar, Hitler charged forward and began swinging at Van Geyte, who managed to evade or block most of the powerful swings, but was surprised by a cut in his arm as hitler swooped past. The men turned to face eachother again, and continued their orbit around eachother, patiently waiting for someone to make a mistake and leave an opening. The gaping wound in Van Geyte’s arm bleeded profusely, dazzling the Field Marshall with rage and pain.
“So you bleed, Conqueror! How does it feel to be mortal? To be WEAK?”
Van Geyte looked at his arm and shrugged “All men bleed. It is only the deluded fool who believes he cannot” Without warning, Van Geyte lunged forward again, swirling past Hitler with an elegant artifice, dodging two slashes by the Fuhrer as the men turned around eachother back to back, while their blades hit eachother in mid-air, firmly stopping with a loud cutting sound.
“You are fast” Hitler commented
“Faster than you?”
“Never”
The blades dislodged themselves and the men continued their dance of death. With swooping and dueling slashes; the men orbited eachother, their blades exchanging and warding off blows at such unbelievable rates that it seemes as if they were wielding strokes of white light, with which the drew gracious curls and bends in the dark night sky. A powerfull stab towards Van Geyte’s chest was narrowly dodged by the Field Marshall, who was wounded in the process. A third and fourth slash hit Van Geyte in the leg, who was now quickly losing strength due to the many bleeding wounds in his limbs. Hitler himself had been cut in the cheek, as blood mixed with the downpour of rain, washing off the men like red paint.
“Are you getting tired, Conqueror?”
In reality, both men were sweating and panting as they continued their circular movement. A battle this fierce could not last forever. Sooner or later, someone was going to make a mistake.
“Not nearly as much as you, Fuhrer.”
“For the future of Germany... for the Third Reich. For her, you must DIE!” With refound devotion, Hitler lunged forward again, as the men began a rapid and fierce duel, their blades swinging around them like sattelites, stabbing and dodging at incredible speeds. Suddenly, Van geyte was caught off-guard as the Fuhrer executed an agile bend, with which he circled around the Field Marshall swinging his blade, inflicting several wounds, before the men dislocked and stood back to back. The Field Marshall grinned. His blade was gone. He was unarmed. He felt life escaping from him with every passing second, as blood poured down from his numerous wounds and washed away with the rain. Slowly and confidently, Laurence Van Geyte, Field Marshall of the German Empire, turned around and looked at the frozen silhouette four metres away.

“So you bleed, Fuhrer.”
Hitler did not respond. With a loud clank, the Fuhrer’s Hitlerjugend knife dropped to the ground, as the man coughed, gasping for air. True, Van Geyte had lost his blade. But it was not in the Field Marshall’s nature to lose grip of a weapon. In the split second that Hitler swirled around him, the Fuhrer had lost focus, a mistake that proved fatal. Now the Fuhrer stood with his back towards Laurence, with the Field Marshall’s knife firmly planted in the side of his neck.

Adolf Hitler, the Fuhrer of the Third Reich, made one final cough, spraying blood everywhere, before collapsing onto the ground. Hitler’s legacy ended February 4th 1943, when he was killed in a knife duel with Field Marshall Van Geyte.

Laurence had exacted his revenge. He looked towards the sky and spread his arms, as rain poured down upon the wounded Field Marshall, illuminated by lightning. Germany was his now, and he would rebuild her Empire. The Field Marshall walked away and stopped one metre before the door, looking over his shoulder to Hitler’s corpse.

As he left the scene, The Field Marshall remarked “So enden alle Tyrannen”

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