<strong>Wednesday, March 13th, 1946. 10:00AM until Noon</strong><br/><br/>The morning passes as you search block after block of tenements in various stages of ruin. Most of them were based on a hollow block model, rows of brown-stone buildings with a few alleys into a central court.<br/><br/>There are people here. Curtains pulled across glass-less windows. The occasional smell of cooking or the crying of a child. But there's no running water, no electricity, and the sewage system is often as broken as the buildings. One day soon reconstruction crews will arrive, pulling down some and refurbishing others, but for now it is an urban blight.<br/><br/>It is close to noon when the group, spread out across each block but staying in sight of each other, find tire tracks through the slush of an alley.<br/><div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/ffexoCFm.jpg)</div><br/>Approaching cautiously, peering into the courtyard reveals a ramshackle garage. The garage doors have been stolen for firewood, but the Opel Blitz is pulled under the the shelter of the roof. An incredibly common German medium weight truck, there were thousands of them in military service. This one is battered and dirty but bears a civilian paint job.<br/><br/>Around you both buildings have dozens of empty glass-less staring out like dead eyes. But three windows of the northern building on the ground floor are boarded over. Entering the building will be as easy as slipping over a window sill. Access to that boarded up room, or whatever else the building hides, awaits.