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"The destiny of nations is shaped by the plangent vicissitude of destroying enemy flattops, interdicting their convoys, and severing their reinforcements and supply lines. And, if you make ace along the way... well, that's just gravy."
"The destiny of nations is shaped by the plangent vicissitude of destroying enemy flattops, interdicting their convoys, and severing their reinforcements and supply lines. And, if you make ace along the way... well, that's just gravy."
JSOE Recon Force // Modern Day // Somewhere in the Colombian hinterland

The heaving deck of USS Iwo Jima dropped away sharply as the MV-22 Osprey lifted effortlessly into the air. The teeming ocean flashed past beneath as the tiltrotor flew through the jetstream, headed toward the coast. Minutes later, they were "feet dry" - over land - as the blue-grey sea-fret gave way to jungle hues.

Staff Sergeant Weitz was the squad leader, and his recon team was part of the multi-national Joint Special Operations Executive (JSOE) which, technically, did not exist. He secured his gear, checked his weapon, and surveyed his squad, who were seated facing each other. Seated next to him was Browne, his second-in-command and team medic. She was slightly older than him, but they had served together on a number of combat tours in various regions, and their bond had been forged in war.

Across from Weitz, Robinson had been seconded from the SAS, and he carried the team's radio set. His nose had been broken so many times that cosmetic surgery was useless, although he wore the disfigurement like a badge of honour. Rowe was the team's SAW gunner, and she had been trained in everything in the modern small-arms arsenal, from the jeep-mounted 105mm recoiless rifle and shoulder-launched MANPADs, to assorted rifles and pistols, right down to her knife, knuckles and teeth. Bogomolov was Russian, formerly of the elite 7th Guards (Mountain) Airborne Division. He spoke little and smiled even less, but he knew his way around a firefight, which was greatly appreciated by his teammates. He liked to be called "Andy".

Today, their mission was to investigate a drug cartel which, in the past week, had mysteriously gone silent. AWACs aircraft and drones had detected no movement, no radio signals, not even as much as a peep from a mobile phone - and JSOE Command had decided to send in a recon team - them, basically - to see what happened.

This scenario is a Warfighter Modern x WW2 crossover, with a hybrid modern combat team facing WW2 German undead soldiers. Mission set up is:

Mission "High Impact"; Objective "Medevac LZ"
* Warfighter Modern core box
* Reloading (Modern Exp #1)
* Speedball (Modern Exp #5)
* United Kingdom (Modern Exp #6)
* Russian Federation (Modern Exp #7)
* Undead (WW2 Exp #42)


Weitz (US PS)
Browne (US PS)
Bogomolov (Russian NPS)
Robinson (UK NPS)
Rowe (US SQS)

The inbound journey was uneventful, if a bit rocky from low-level turbulence. The Osprey circled the LZ for a minute, before descending into a landing pattern, its rotors rolling from horizontal to vertical. Weitz's team dismounted without incident, and made their way toward their first waypoint, a local trading village, little more than a collection of Nissen huts along a dirt path. It was eerily unoccupied, and they could not fail to notice the bullet holes on the sheet-metal walls, the overturned furniture, the abandoned, crashed vehicles. Personal possessions had been left where they had fallen, as if the local populace had suddenly and inexplicably vanished.

"Clumsy." Rowe made a face as she studied the bullet patterns, making her professional assessment known. She couldn't abide sloppy work.

"Aye, looks like someone panicked," Robinson concurred. His weapon swept from left to right and back in a slow arc, in perfect alignment with the direction of his vision. "Civilians."

Rowe frowned. "But where is everyone?"

"Listen," said Browne. "Do you hear that?"

The SAW gunner raised an eyebrow at her teammate. "I can't hear anything."

"Exactly." Browne shook her head. "It's too damned quiet. No birds, no insects."

"Bozhe moi," Andy was shaking his head as he surveyed the quiet village.

Weitz gestured forward. "Move out. Let's keep going."

There was movement at the end of the street. It was a humanoid silhouette, apparently in some sort of costume, and as it moved closer, Weitz could not believe his eyes. Even though it was threadbare and in tatters, it was clearly dressed in a World War II Nazi German uniform, with night adaptor goggles to protect its eyes, and the person inhabiting it... wasn't a person at all. It was a walking corpse, its skin in putrefying shades of green and purple, emanating a thick odour of rotting flesh.

The creature peered at Weitz curiously, as though he was the otherworldly creature. Weitz tried to say something and couldn't, staring wide-eyed as the apparition stared back. It raised his hand, and it was then Weitz realized it was holding a Luger pistol, about to shoot-

Browne fired a burst from her M16, throwing the creature backward, but to Weitz's surprise, it did not fall down as an ordinary human would. Instead, it opened its mouth in an infernal howl that no human ever made, and more of the infernal creatures emerged from the fringes of the village. There were easily over a dozen of them, some with rifles, others with pistols, and a few with knives and axes - but all seemingly with a single purpose against the humans.

The first location was a Village, and the hostiles drawn were an Officer and a Machine Gun Team. Having previously encountered the Undead hostiles with WW2 soldiers and French Resistance fighters, it was immediately obvious how much more devastating the Modern squad's firepower was.

Pushing his incredulity aside, Weitz began giving directions, "Squad, on me! Advance toward the south clearing. Robinson, Rowe, cover the left quarter. Browne, with me on the right quarter. Andy, cover the rear. Move!"

The squad moved with a practiced precision, side by side, firing and covering as they advanced. Unless it was a direct shot to the head, these wraiths could absorb considerably more damage from their weapons before they fell. Weitz realized quickly that they moved with little sense of tactical maneuvering or cover, instead relying on brute-force frontal assault by numbers.

Weitz saw Andy's PKM Machine Gun rip one of the apparitions from tip to toe, splashing rotting innards and body fluids in all directions, yet the ones behind walked right through without pause. Any human soldier would have gone for cover, but not these monstrosities. They seemingly knew no fear and they were plenty, and that stark realization sent an icy chill down Weitz's spine.

One of their stray rounds grazed Browne's scalp, leaving a reddish mark like a hot iron and annoying her immensely - but otherwise she seemed fine.

"Fire in the hole!" Ignoring the pain in her head, Browne primed a grenade, and then she let fly with her missile, throwing it baseball-style, toward an advancing horde. The resulting blast knocked half of them off their feet, and vapourized the other half.

As the team emerged into a clearing, the sounds of pursuit falling behind, Weitz called for a short pause to regroup.

"What in the hell - excuse the pun - was that?" Robinson asked.

Rowe changed the ammo clip on her SAW. "Look, if no one will, I'll say it: Nazi zombie horde."

Andy looked as if he was about to add something, then shook his head. He patted his PKM machine gun affectionately.

Weitz was aware that his squad was looking at him. "We know that some of the Nazi scientists escaped to South America when the Third Reich fell. Maybe they brought some of their experiments along, and all these years, they've lain dormant, until someone from the cartel stumbled across their hideout and woke them up, and everyone ended up getting eaten?"

Browne shrugged and nodded - it was as good an explanation as any.

"I think we have our answer," Weitz thought aloud. "Robinson, call for pickup. Tell them we're headed to the LZ now."

Andy tapped Weitz on the shoulder, pointing to the far end of the clearing. "Tovarisch."

Rowe's jaws had dropped open in shock. The Russian was pointing to something that Weitz had only ever seen before in a museum.

Things escalated quickly when I played a Clearing, and a Riflemen and a Zombie Horde showed up, totalling more than twice the number of Hostiles from the first Location. The Horde, with nine Recticles' worth, required some serious killing with combined rifle fire and grenades, and Browne took the first wound of the mission. But that was nothing compared to what showed up next...

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Blucher Lives

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Wildly great!
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