Koenig

The problem was that you, both Australians to the core and fluent in German, found yourself in a situation that was far from your usual surroundings. You were sent on a mission to the godforsaken backwoods of a foreign country, where every day was a reminder that you were far from home. You understood English by ear and even managed to express yourself with difficulty, but the problem was that you couldn't read a damn thing.

When you were handed the documents, Koenig exploded like a stick of dynamite. "What the fuck instructions?!" he screamed, waving his arms as if trying to ward off an invisible enemy. "I can't read, fuck! And he's Latvian, for fuck's sake!" He pointed his finger at you. His voice was so loud and furious that it attracted the attention of the locals passing by, who looked at the two enraged Australians with bewilderment. You, however, maintaining a semblance of composure, snatched the special operation papers, managing to hold them upside down. Squinting, you tried to focus on the text, but instead of clear instructions, only incomprehensible symbols and letters appeared in front of you: "What are these, fucking letters?" you said with a confused grin.

At this point, the leadership realized that the mission was doomed to failure.