As there have been quite a few flames thrown about lately, it might be good to try a flame-proof topic. Also, I just had an itch to try writing an FH story anyway.
--------------------------------------------
The sun glowed perfectly in the fall sky, lighting up the little town, but not beating down oppressively. Kurt Rosselsprung proudly strode down the cobblestone street in his newly acquired uniform. The field gray seemed to catch the eye of all the teenage girls who swooned as he passed by. The grocers and merchants of the town looked on approvingly. Christine Schumacher, that pretty faced but empty headed daughter of the baker, swooned as he greeted her. She giggled vivaciously as she flirted with him. A gentle breeze lifted her skirt a little as Kurt stared at her stupidly. An odd sensation suddenly attacked his senses. The scene remained the same, but a bitter cold tore through him, setting every nerve aflame with the feeling of utter lack of warmth.
His eyes opened to see nothing but darkness. He flailed his arms wildly, trying to clear his vision as the cold entered his mouth and nose. The cold was trying to kill him, to choke him, to bury him. He punched above the strange material and pulled himself out. A forest, a shack, and odd lumps in the ground were all that could be seen. He turned back to where he'd come from. It was a shallow hole. He'd been buried. A stabbing pain all over his joints and bones woke him further. A pain the shoulder compounded all of it. Taking off the jacket and peering under the uniform revealed a large scab. Feeling his face, more scabs and scars were felt under the gloves. With each sight and feeling, the memory came back slowly. A grenade exploding, then that long sleep. Hansen, Arajs, Krist, Schmerzlos, all of them gone, or at least not here with him. The MG42 tearing across the woods. The partisans screaming their battle cry as they charged the shack. Those bumps in the ground were graves, and till a few minutes before, he'd been in one. He felt for his canteen. Amazingly, it was still there. However buried him put him under with everything still on him. Turning to see his grave again, they'd given him a pretty shallow grave also. He took a drink from the canteen, but only a few drops of ice cold water quenched his throat. Shaking it up and down made a solid grating sound. It was frozen. Well, things couldn't all be in his favor. A small search around the shack revealed a K98, a Stahlhelm, and more ammunition than he could carry. He wearily put on the helmet, wincing at the cold steel near his head. He held the rifle tightly in his arms as he ventured out.
* See Forum Heroes: Blame for backstory. A quick search will turn it up.
The Forum Heroes: Odyssey
Moderator: Commissar D, the Evil
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Commissar D, the Evil
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Intriguing Rosselsprung. 
Good Luck with the story!!!!
I think that you are right, with all of the flaming going on, it is good to read a new Forum Heroes Tale!
So, how did Rosselsrpung go from flirting with young lovelies to being buried alive? I suppose I will have to wait for the next installmen to learn the answer.................
Very Best,
~D, the EviL
Good Luck with the story!!!!
I think that you are right, with all of the flaming going on, it is good to read a new Forum Heroes Tale!
So, how did Rosselsrpung go from flirting with young lovelies to being buried alive? I suppose I will have to wait for the next installmen to learn the answer.................
Very Best,
~D, the EviL
Death is lighter than a Feather, Duty is heavier than a Mountain....
![:[]](./images/smilies/icon_study.gif "Study"){kind=icon}
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Rosselsprung
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Sorry Commisar, 'twas only a dream. MH, Hansen is alive and well, just not present. You'll have to appear in another incarnation in this one. And a call for volunteers, it can't just be Kurt wandering around the woods the whole time! 
---------------------------------------
Kurt felt some of the little aches and pains easing away as he walked through the woods. He was irritated that he'd been woken up so soon in his dream. Of course, at some point, he would know it was a dream, since usually, girls didn't swoon in his presence, the neighbors would pay no attention to him at all, and the farthest he'd gone with Christine was her batting her eyes at him as he passed by. In fact, that's the reception his cousin Wolfram, the Panzer officer, got when he visited town. That militaristic pain in the ass was always getting all the attention.
He was calmly walking through the woods with still no destination in mind, just an idea to find friendly troops. His compass was gone, he had no map, and the only geographical aid he had was that he knew the sun rose in the east and set in the west. So he set off in the opposite direction the early morning light came from. The forest was deathly quiet winter except for the snapping of branches or the dripping of icicles.
At the end of the woods was a large clearing, glistening white from snow. A single Russian walked across it, submachine gun in hand. Kurt dropped to the ground, Mauser in hand, drawing a bead on the Russian. As he casually strode forward, the urge to squeeze that trigger grew with every step. But he had second thoughts, and let him go on. I should just wait and see, Kurt thought. He followed the man as he suddenly stopped and signalled to something in the woods. The ground began to shake as the trees snapped under tank treads.
A regiment of T34's rumbled out of the woods on the other side of the meadow. On each, a squad of tank riders sat on the rear deck. Kurt waited until the last one faded from view. Their number seemed endless, at least to a green recruit. It was rather good fortune he hesistated to shoot. Or else that regiment would have made sure he was back in the grave, for sure.
The woods once again stirred. A lone figure stood up and carefully creeped forward cautiously. This time, Kurt was ready. Lining up the man in his sights, he fired. The sound of snapping bark echoed across the wood as the shot missed and hit a tree. The man dropped to the ground, shocked from the near miss. To his horror, Kurt saw the profile of a Stahlhelm in the snow. He hurried across to the man rashly.
"Hey, who goes there?" called out a voice in German.
"Schutze Kurt Rosselsprung, 644th Infantry Regiment! Who are you?"
The man popped up, still a bit shaken up.
"Schutze Michael Hallgarten, 293rd Infantry Division. Nice to see you're not one of the Ivans"
Kurt ventured closer, certain there was no danger.
"How the hell did you end up behind a Russian tank regiment?"
"I could ask you the same question. From what I know, there isn't a 644th Infantry Regiment anywhere near this place."
"Do you know where our lines are?"
Michael smiled.
"That I do know. Right now, if nothing really disastrous has happened, there's a strongpoint at Gribovka we can make it to, only about eight kilometers from here."
"Good. You can tell me how you ended up here on the way. What do you go by, Michael or Hallgarten?"
"You can do likewise. As far as names, just call me MH."
---------------------------------------
Kurt felt some of the little aches and pains easing away as he walked through the woods. He was irritated that he'd been woken up so soon in his dream. Of course, at some point, he would know it was a dream, since usually, girls didn't swoon in his presence, the neighbors would pay no attention to him at all, and the farthest he'd gone with Christine was her batting her eyes at him as he passed by. In fact, that's the reception his cousin Wolfram, the Panzer officer, got when he visited town. That militaristic pain in the ass was always getting all the attention.
He was calmly walking through the woods with still no destination in mind, just an idea to find friendly troops. His compass was gone, he had no map, and the only geographical aid he had was that he knew the sun rose in the east and set in the west. So he set off in the opposite direction the early morning light came from. The forest was deathly quiet winter except for the snapping of branches or the dripping of icicles.
At the end of the woods was a large clearing, glistening white from snow. A single Russian walked across it, submachine gun in hand. Kurt dropped to the ground, Mauser in hand, drawing a bead on the Russian. As he casually strode forward, the urge to squeeze that trigger grew with every step. But he had second thoughts, and let him go on. I should just wait and see, Kurt thought. He followed the man as he suddenly stopped and signalled to something in the woods. The ground began to shake as the trees snapped under tank treads.
A regiment of T34's rumbled out of the woods on the other side of the meadow. On each, a squad of tank riders sat on the rear deck. Kurt waited until the last one faded from view. Their number seemed endless, at least to a green recruit. It was rather good fortune he hesistated to shoot. Or else that regiment would have made sure he was back in the grave, for sure.
The woods once again stirred. A lone figure stood up and carefully creeped forward cautiously. This time, Kurt was ready. Lining up the man in his sights, he fired. The sound of snapping bark echoed across the wood as the shot missed and hit a tree. The man dropped to the ground, shocked from the near miss. To his horror, Kurt saw the profile of a Stahlhelm in the snow. He hurried across to the man rashly.
"Hey, who goes there?" called out a voice in German.
"Schutze Kurt Rosselsprung, 644th Infantry Regiment! Who are you?"
The man popped up, still a bit shaken up.
"Schutze Michael Hallgarten, 293rd Infantry Division. Nice to see you're not one of the Ivans"
Kurt ventured closer, certain there was no danger.
"How the hell did you end up behind a Russian tank regiment?"
"I could ask you the same question. From what I know, there isn't a 644th Infantry Regiment anywhere near this place."
"Do you know where our lines are?"
Michael smiled.
"That I do know. Right now, if nothing really disastrous has happened, there's a strongpoint at Gribovka we can make it to, only about eight kilometers from here."
"Good. You can tell me how you ended up here on the way. What do you go by, Michael or Hallgarten?"
"You can do likewise. As far as names, just call me MH."
-
Helmut Von Moltke
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Helmut Von Moltke
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Commissar D, the Evil
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I agree with M.H. I don't mean to insult you Kevin, but it is somewhat rude to hijack another member's tale unless specifically invited to do so. Kevin, when you write, you make a point of inviting others to join in. Rosselsprung has not given such an invitation, so, until and unless he does so, you should stay out of it and let him develop his own plot and characters.
Best,
David
Best,
David
Death is lighter than a Feather, Duty is heavier than a Mountain....
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Rosselsprung
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Part 3
Major Semyon Mendeleev stood proudly in the cupola of the T34 as his regiment rolled in. 60 new T34/85's going through Medovo caused the ground to shake. At the head of the column was the newly promoted major, undaunted by the cold or wind, starind down each of the passersby from his perch on the metal monster. A relieved lookind adjutant came running out of the HQ to greet them.
"Major Mendeleev, I presume?"
"Yes, we have just arrived from Pavomaiskaya. New models, nothing the Fritz's have save can stand up to one" he announced proudly.
The adjutant motioned him inside as he got out.
"Who is the komdiv here?"
"General Koshevoy, though we have two divisions in the area. Our orders are to retake Gribovka. He will clarify with you"
Inside a relatively undamaged room was General Koshevoy, surprisingly, reading a book, Anna Karenina.
"Major Mendeleev, it is fortunate you have arrived" he said, not lifting his eyes from the pages.
With a free hand, he pulled out a map and handed it to Mendeleev.
"The weight of our forces shall be thrown at the enemy's northern flank. After the 197th Rifle Division achieves a breakthrough, you must drive on to Gribovka with your regiment. The Germans have had only a few days to make ready their defenses. You may leave."
Mendeleev left, surprised at the General.
"He was reading Anna Karenina the entire time. Didn't even turn to look at me. I suppose Chekhov can be quite engrossing,"
The adjutant laughed.
"Yes, most new officers he meets he gives that treatment. And Chekhov didn't write Anna Karenina, Tolstoi did."
Mendeleev sighed. That's what comes from being raised in some rural nowhere in the Ukraine. But that doesn't matter. Soon there would be far more pressing engagements than the authorship of love stories.
--------------------------------------
"Feldwebel! New arrivals!"
Feldwebel Helmut von Moltke hurried out of the trench to see if those were the promised reinforcements.
Unfortunately, there were just two.
"These two came out of the forest. They said they had a message to bring."
Immediately one piped up.
"Yeah, an entire Russian tank regiment coming this way. We also met some SS. A Sturmscharführer Houlihan confirmed that there's going to be an attack"
Feldwebel von Moltke was not pleased. However, for a diferrent reason.
"Houlihan? That sounds as German as Stalin! What division was he from?"
"The Irish SS" came the reply.
"Ah, I suppose I should get the Hauptmann to deal with you two," von Motlke muttered, walking away.
Kurt had listened quietly to the whole exchange.
"Von Moltke? Any possible relation to the 'other' von Moltke?"
"Are you daft? The other von Moltke spelled his name with an H!"
"Never mind, get on with what you were saying before we got here"
MH casually continued, glad to be rid of a futile discussion.
"Anyway, after our division was forced to retreat, our company was just wiped out. The Russian offensive was just a week ago, and I had to hide in that goddamned forest for 3 days and nights watching half a stinking army of the b*stards go past. What's more unbelievable is you rising from the dead."
Kurt nodded, about to go on with his own story till he saw the Hauptmann coming. Amazingly, he wore an impecabble greatcoat and cap, even in the mud and snow of the trenches. Both classes of Iron Cross decorated his uniform, as well as every other award imaginable. Most amazingly, a Ritterkreuz glistened from his throat.
"I am Hauptmann Kazimierz Torquezovsky. Answer with only a yes or a no. Are you deserters?"
Both stood dumbfounded for a moment.
"Well?"
"Nein, Herr Hauptmann!"
The Gestapo like interrogation continued, until Torquezovsky was placated.
"As you do not appear to be fugitives, you are now incorporated into my company. Feldwebel! Assemble your platoon to handle the new arrivals, since all of them are reinforcements too."
Von Moltke saluted hurriedly and ran off to assemble his men. A rabble of a few dozen men slouched off the trench, all muddied and tired from a night of digging. A series of angered commands and reprimands later from Torquezovsky and they stood ramrod straight at attention.
"That is better. Men, you have new Kameraden. Schutze Rosselsprung and Hallgarten are joining you."
He took a deep breath, as if to ready himself for a grand speech.
"Soldiers! Do you not accept that you are nazi imperialists who all have blood on your hands for joining the Wehrmacht?!"
A rather thick headed man raised his voice.
"Excuse me sir, I was drafted?"
"Silence! Do you not also accept that Germany has oppressed Poland and seeks to destroy and enslave Poles?!"
The men stumbled over their words as they sought a reply.
"Uh.. uh.. Jawohl Herr Hauptmann!"
"Excellent. We will destroy the Russian imperialists who have long sought to subject my people to Russification. When the war is over, we shall rise up against Hitlerite scum in the SS, and ensure that the glory of Warszawa, Krakow, Gdansk, and all of Poland shall be returned. At ease."
He walked away, leaving behind Rosselsprung, MH, and the Feldwebel.
"Who the hell is that!?" MH sputtered.
Von Moltke sat back in the trench.
"Oh, that's just Hauptmann Torquezovsky from Breslau. He's really a fine fellow once you get used to him."
Suddenly he stood up, stared around to see that the Hauptmann was still in distance to hear him.
"Oh, I mean from Wroclaw, sir!"
MH had a look of sheer disbelief.
"At least he's colorful!" joked Rosselsprung.
Major Semyon Mendeleev stood proudly in the cupola of the T34 as his regiment rolled in. 60 new T34/85's going through Medovo caused the ground to shake. At the head of the column was the newly promoted major, undaunted by the cold or wind, starind down each of the passersby from his perch on the metal monster. A relieved lookind adjutant came running out of the HQ to greet them.
"Major Mendeleev, I presume?"
"Yes, we have just arrived from Pavomaiskaya. New models, nothing the Fritz's have save can stand up to one" he announced proudly.
The adjutant motioned him inside as he got out.
"Who is the komdiv here?"
"General Koshevoy, though we have two divisions in the area. Our orders are to retake Gribovka. He will clarify with you"
Inside a relatively undamaged room was General Koshevoy, surprisingly, reading a book, Anna Karenina.
"Major Mendeleev, it is fortunate you have arrived" he said, not lifting his eyes from the pages.
With a free hand, he pulled out a map and handed it to Mendeleev.
"The weight of our forces shall be thrown at the enemy's northern flank. After the 197th Rifle Division achieves a breakthrough, you must drive on to Gribovka with your regiment. The Germans have had only a few days to make ready their defenses. You may leave."
Mendeleev left, surprised at the General.
"He was reading Anna Karenina the entire time. Didn't even turn to look at me. I suppose Chekhov can be quite engrossing,"
The adjutant laughed.
"Yes, most new officers he meets he gives that treatment. And Chekhov didn't write Anna Karenina, Tolstoi did."
Mendeleev sighed. That's what comes from being raised in some rural nowhere in the Ukraine. But that doesn't matter. Soon there would be far more pressing engagements than the authorship of love stories.
--------------------------------------
"Feldwebel! New arrivals!"
Feldwebel Helmut von Moltke hurried out of the trench to see if those were the promised reinforcements.
Unfortunately, there were just two.
"These two came out of the forest. They said they had a message to bring."
Immediately one piped up.
"Yeah, an entire Russian tank regiment coming this way. We also met some SS. A Sturmscharführer Houlihan confirmed that there's going to be an attack"
Feldwebel von Moltke was not pleased. However, for a diferrent reason.
"Houlihan? That sounds as German as Stalin! What division was he from?"
"The Irish SS" came the reply.
"Ah, I suppose I should get the Hauptmann to deal with you two," von Motlke muttered, walking away.
Kurt had listened quietly to the whole exchange.
"Von Moltke? Any possible relation to the 'other' von Moltke?"
"Are you daft? The other von Moltke spelled his name with an H!"
"Never mind, get on with what you were saying before we got here"
MH casually continued, glad to be rid of a futile discussion.
"Anyway, after our division was forced to retreat, our company was just wiped out. The Russian offensive was just a week ago, and I had to hide in that goddamned forest for 3 days and nights watching half a stinking army of the b*stards go past. What's more unbelievable is you rising from the dead."
Kurt nodded, about to go on with his own story till he saw the Hauptmann coming. Amazingly, he wore an impecabble greatcoat and cap, even in the mud and snow of the trenches. Both classes of Iron Cross decorated his uniform, as well as every other award imaginable. Most amazingly, a Ritterkreuz glistened from his throat.
"I am Hauptmann Kazimierz Torquezovsky. Answer with only a yes or a no. Are you deserters?"
Both stood dumbfounded for a moment.
"Well?"
"Nein, Herr Hauptmann!"
The Gestapo like interrogation continued, until Torquezovsky was placated.
"As you do not appear to be fugitives, you are now incorporated into my company. Feldwebel! Assemble your platoon to handle the new arrivals, since all of them are reinforcements too."
Von Moltke saluted hurriedly and ran off to assemble his men. A rabble of a few dozen men slouched off the trench, all muddied and tired from a night of digging. A series of angered commands and reprimands later from Torquezovsky and they stood ramrod straight at attention.
"That is better. Men, you have new Kameraden. Schutze Rosselsprung and Hallgarten are joining you."
He took a deep breath, as if to ready himself for a grand speech.
"Soldiers! Do you not accept that you are nazi imperialists who all have blood on your hands for joining the Wehrmacht?!"
A rather thick headed man raised his voice.
"Excuse me sir, I was drafted?"
"Silence! Do you not also accept that Germany has oppressed Poland and seeks to destroy and enslave Poles?!"
The men stumbled over their words as they sought a reply.
"Uh.. uh.. Jawohl Herr Hauptmann!"
"Excellent. We will destroy the Russian imperialists who have long sought to subject my people to Russification. When the war is over, we shall rise up against Hitlerite scum in the SS, and ensure that the glory of Warszawa, Krakow, Gdansk, and all of Poland shall be returned. At ease."
He walked away, leaving behind Rosselsprung, MH, and the Feldwebel.
"Who the hell is that!?" MH sputtered.
Von Moltke sat back in the trench.
"Oh, that's just Hauptmann Torquezovsky from Breslau. He's really a fine fellow once you get used to him."
Suddenly he stood up, stared around to see that the Hauptmann was still in distance to hear him.
"Oh, I mean from Wroclaw, sir!"
MH had a look of sheer disbelief.
"At least he's colorful!" joked Rosselsprung.
Last edited by Rosselsprung on Sat Aug 19, 2006 8:41 pm, edited 1 time in total.
-
Alex Coles
- Associate
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Rosselsprung
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- Joined: Tue Mar 08, 2005 8:25 pm
Ah no, 17th. It would be very bad press to execute an RK holder.
------------------------------
Part 4
Night fell on the line. All the tasks an army needed to perform to maintain secrecy and camouflage took hold. MH and Rosselsprung had gotten to know some of the other men in the platoon. Feldwebel Paulus (the Second) was a bit more pragmatic than the wildly optimistic von Moltke. There was Jan-Hendrik from Wienhausen, an Emil Strasskoenig, a Mark Hansen(who had a cousin in the SS), and a few others. To make sure this host of incompetents wasn't massacred, a Leutnant Awender who had service in the pre-war Austrian army looked over them.
Feldwebel Paulus gathered the men after all the work was done for a few drinks and tales.
"Ah, I suppose a lot of you are wondering how our illustrious Hauptmann came by his Ritterkreuz."
A dozen heads nodded in reply.
"Where was I. We were stationed in some godforsaken village when he had just been promoted from Leutnant. In a rare gesture of generosity, the Hauptmann let us have a little party in his honor. And he drank. Normally, Hauptmann Torquezowsky isn't a drinking man, but that night, he emptied a gallon and a half of vodka, schnapps, and whiskey into his gullet. Stumbling out of the place, he misread a cyrillic roadsign and thought he was back in Warsaw. Naturally, we thought nothing would come of it, as all he did was make drunken advances in Polish towards the Russian girls. But that night, we were attacked by the Soviets. A battalion of T34's and a company of infantry. The Hauptmann practically blew away all of them. He was enraged that the Ivans would dare to even step on what he thought was Polish soil. He fired 12 Panzerfausts that night, and there were 12 blasted Russenpanzers the next morning. He also massacred a platoon's worth of infantry with grenades, his Mkb 43, and his bare hands. He got the Ritterkreuz the next week"
The men started yelling and disputing the story. All were silenced when Awender heard.
"Shut up! They can hear you in Moscow!"
The trenches were rather quiet after that.
--------------------------------------------------
Mendeleev went over the plan in his mind one last time. Lieutenants Grigoryev and Nevsky would take a squad each around the flanks the German position. His advance guard of 3 T34/85's would lead right down the center. The trenches had been loud earlier, but now they were quiet.
"Alright boys, no theatrics this time. Take it straight down the middle, use the co-axial guns, and cover the infantry's movement with the main gun" he said, addressing his crews.
The troops crept into position as the tank engines came to life.
"Hey, what's that sound?" questioned Emil.
"It's the Reds!" shouted von Moltke.
He rushed into a bunker and came out with an MG42 and a few belts of ammunition.
All fired into the darkness at shapes and movement. MH and Rosselsprung held their fire, having heard the sound before.
"It's tanks. Get your fausts out!" Awender commanded.
The order was somewhat lost in the cacophony of gunfire.
"They'll come out of the smoke, screaming!" von Moltke said lustily. His eyes blazed like little campfires as he gripped the MG42.
Paulus was hastily trying to organize the defense as men stood to in the trench, staring out into the nothingness that was subject to a barrage from von Moltke's squad.
"You know, that's an awful lot of panic since nothing has actually happened yet" commented MH.
"I wish Hansen and Arajs could be around about now" replied Rosselsprung.
Gunfire errupted as a machine gun fire traced its way along the trench. Kurt saw Paulus trying to carry away a wounded man, ducking underneath the hail of bullets. Von Moltke looked around confused.
"They're supposed to come out screaming 'Urrah!' Why aren't they doing it?"
"Because you're an idiot! Take your men to our right flank. Paulus shall do the same for our left. They outflanked us somehow!" snapped Awender in reply.
MH and Rosselsprung followed von Moltke with Emil and Jan-Hendrik. With a bit of trepidation, they moved towards the right flank. Only Jan-Hendrik had an MP40, and von Moltke had the MG42.
A group of men could be seen in the darkness, pouring fire on the men with a pair of Degtyarev machine guns.
Jan-Hendrik sprayed the machine gun nest with the sub-machine gun and von Moltke did likewise with the MG42. The firing ceased for a moment as both sides stopped to reload.
"I think we got them!" yelled Jan-Hendrik triumphantly.
An almighty blast shook the trench. All heads turned to see three T34/85's charging forward with those guns the size of telephone poles. Their machine guns blazed away, striking the panicked groups of men streaming out of the trenches. Awender desperately rallied the men.
"Hold your positions! Don't turn your backs and let them shoot you like dogs!"
For a moment, it seemed as if the line would hold. But a piece of shrapnel caught Awender in the arm and without a competent leader, the platoon disintegrated. Von Moltke and Paulus desperately tried to hold the men back as they ran into the darkness to get cut down by the T34's.
Nevsky and Grigoryev's men exploded into the trench on both sides with the tools of the trade- grenades, bayonets, and PPSh-41's. The German line dissolved in a welter of blood as isolated groups of landsers were shot by the Russians.
At the another trench in the German defense line, Paulus tried to regroup and take account of the losses.
"I know the Leutnant's been injured. Who else is hurt?"
A dozen men raised their hands, as others reported men killed or missing. MH hung his head gloomily.
"This isn't the best of ways to start off, isn't it?"
Rosselsprung did his best at an optimistic remark.
"We're alive, aren't we?"
-----------------------------------------
"This has been the easiest position we ever took from the fascists, eh Major?" said Grigoryev.
Mendeleev nodded in silent agreement. It had been easy, thankfully. They only counted eight men killed and about a dozen wounded, while the German dead was still being tallied up.
"We can report back to General Koshevoy we just took a forward position. The main offensive will come soon."
------------------------------
Part 4
Night fell on the line. All the tasks an army needed to perform to maintain secrecy and camouflage took hold. MH and Rosselsprung had gotten to know some of the other men in the platoon. Feldwebel Paulus (the Second) was a bit more pragmatic than the wildly optimistic von Moltke. There was Jan-Hendrik from Wienhausen, an Emil Strasskoenig, a Mark Hansen(who had a cousin in the SS), and a few others. To make sure this host of incompetents wasn't massacred, a Leutnant Awender who had service in the pre-war Austrian army looked over them.
Feldwebel Paulus gathered the men after all the work was done for a few drinks and tales.
"Ah, I suppose a lot of you are wondering how our illustrious Hauptmann came by his Ritterkreuz."
A dozen heads nodded in reply.
"Where was I. We were stationed in some godforsaken village when he had just been promoted from Leutnant. In a rare gesture of generosity, the Hauptmann let us have a little party in his honor. And he drank. Normally, Hauptmann Torquezowsky isn't a drinking man, but that night, he emptied a gallon and a half of vodka, schnapps, and whiskey into his gullet. Stumbling out of the place, he misread a cyrillic roadsign and thought he was back in Warsaw. Naturally, we thought nothing would come of it, as all he did was make drunken advances in Polish towards the Russian girls. But that night, we were attacked by the Soviets. A battalion of T34's and a company of infantry. The Hauptmann practically blew away all of them. He was enraged that the Ivans would dare to even step on what he thought was Polish soil. He fired 12 Panzerfausts that night, and there were 12 blasted Russenpanzers the next morning. He also massacred a platoon's worth of infantry with grenades, his Mkb 43, and his bare hands. He got the Ritterkreuz the next week"
The men started yelling and disputing the story. All were silenced when Awender heard.
"Shut up! They can hear you in Moscow!"
The trenches were rather quiet after that.
--------------------------------------------------
Mendeleev went over the plan in his mind one last time. Lieutenants Grigoryev and Nevsky would take a squad each around the flanks the German position. His advance guard of 3 T34/85's would lead right down the center. The trenches had been loud earlier, but now they were quiet.
"Alright boys, no theatrics this time. Take it straight down the middle, use the co-axial guns, and cover the infantry's movement with the main gun" he said, addressing his crews.
The troops crept into position as the tank engines came to life.
"Hey, what's that sound?" questioned Emil.
"It's the Reds!" shouted von Moltke.
He rushed into a bunker and came out with an MG42 and a few belts of ammunition.
All fired into the darkness at shapes and movement. MH and Rosselsprung held their fire, having heard the sound before.
"It's tanks. Get your fausts out!" Awender commanded.
The order was somewhat lost in the cacophony of gunfire.
"They'll come out of the smoke, screaming!" von Moltke said lustily. His eyes blazed like little campfires as he gripped the MG42.
Paulus was hastily trying to organize the defense as men stood to in the trench, staring out into the nothingness that was subject to a barrage from von Moltke's squad.
"You know, that's an awful lot of panic since nothing has actually happened yet" commented MH.
"I wish Hansen and Arajs could be around about now" replied Rosselsprung.
Gunfire errupted as a machine gun fire traced its way along the trench. Kurt saw Paulus trying to carry away a wounded man, ducking underneath the hail of bullets. Von Moltke looked around confused.
"They're supposed to come out screaming 'Urrah!' Why aren't they doing it?"
"Because you're an idiot! Take your men to our right flank. Paulus shall do the same for our left. They outflanked us somehow!" snapped Awender in reply.
MH and Rosselsprung followed von Moltke with Emil and Jan-Hendrik. With a bit of trepidation, they moved towards the right flank. Only Jan-Hendrik had an MP40, and von Moltke had the MG42.
A group of men could be seen in the darkness, pouring fire on the men with a pair of Degtyarev machine guns.
Jan-Hendrik sprayed the machine gun nest with the sub-machine gun and von Moltke did likewise with the MG42. The firing ceased for a moment as both sides stopped to reload.
"I think we got them!" yelled Jan-Hendrik triumphantly.
An almighty blast shook the trench. All heads turned to see three T34/85's charging forward with those guns the size of telephone poles. Their machine guns blazed away, striking the panicked groups of men streaming out of the trenches. Awender desperately rallied the men.
"Hold your positions! Don't turn your backs and let them shoot you like dogs!"
For a moment, it seemed as if the line would hold. But a piece of shrapnel caught Awender in the arm and without a competent leader, the platoon disintegrated. Von Moltke and Paulus desperately tried to hold the men back as they ran into the darkness to get cut down by the T34's.
Nevsky and Grigoryev's men exploded into the trench on both sides with the tools of the trade- grenades, bayonets, and PPSh-41's. The German line dissolved in a welter of blood as isolated groups of landsers were shot by the Russians.
At the another trench in the German defense line, Paulus tried to regroup and take account of the losses.
"I know the Leutnant's been injured. Who else is hurt?"
A dozen men raised their hands, as others reported men killed or missing. MH hung his head gloomily.
"This isn't the best of ways to start off, isn't it?"
Rosselsprung did his best at an optimistic remark.
"We're alive, aren't we?"
-----------------------------------------
"This has been the easiest position we ever took from the fascists, eh Major?" said Grigoryev.
Mendeleev nodded in silent agreement. It had been easy, thankfully. They only counted eight men killed and about a dozen wounded, while the German dead was still being tallied up.
"We can report back to General Koshevoy we just took a forward position. The main offensive will come soon."
Last edited by Rosselsprung on Sat Aug 19, 2006 9:28 am, edited 3 times in total.
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phylo_roadking
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