So....My Tank Corps in Prussia...

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Re: So....My Tank Corps in Prussia...

Post by Commissar D, the Evil »

ERIKAS

Jahn and W.F. brushed the snow that formed their second blanket off as they rose in the hour before daybreak. Gathering up their equipment and packs, they chewed on cold chocolate bars from their iron rations and moved off, passing the silent charred guns of Erika before moving into the forest.

Leutnant Ribbentrop gazed into the very real eyes of the very soft and kind human Erika. She was wiping a bit of dried blood from his chin, having bandaged his face with gauze from a first aid pack recovered from the train.

“You’re a fine girl, what a fine wife you would be,” he said softly as her white fingers ever so gently wiped the blood stain away, “you could tempt a sailor from the sea…”

Her eyes fluttered as she blushed a bright red. “Are you really going to take me all the way to the Baltic?”

Leutnant Ribbentrop smiled brightly and reassuringly. “I’ll take you to the Baltic and beyond that little lake, all the way back to my home in Berlin.”

He heard the snort of horses and stiffened. She slowly caught the alarm in his stare, turned her lovely head and followed his gaze, only to burst into a scream.

The three Cossacks were grinning lustily from their horses. And Ribbentrop’s MP-40 sat placed up against the tree he sat under, just those few inches beyond his reach.

One of the Cossacks slowly dismounted, pulling his saber from its sheath and intent upon cutting the Leutnant zur See’s throat with a minimum of trouble.

Von Ribbentrop got to his feet, sweeping Erika behind him with one arm to face the threat without a weapon, but with the proper decorum of an officer in the Kreigsmarine.

The Cossack said something guttural which caused his companions to burst into laughter. Holding his naked blade in front of him, he stalked forward, intending to end this fight with one thrust.

“Blam!”

The bullet entered the back of the Cossack’s head and simply exploded it, splattering Von Ribbentrop with brain matter and skull fragments. Erika screamed long and loudly into Von Ribbentrop’s ear. Before the man’s two comrades could react, a pair of shots dropped them from their saddles. Their horses ran off in fear, once they were relieved of their human burdens.

Their rifles still aimed at the fallen Cossacks, W.F. and Jahn cautiously crept out of the woods. Apparently W.F.’s training had sunk in, as Jahn had made the first and last shot, hitting each target squarely in the head. There was no need for caution against corpses.
“Leutnant.” W.F. saluted ceremoniously as Ribbentrop sighed and relaxed. He wrapped an arm tenderly and protectively around the frightened girl who continued to weep.
“Good to see you,” was all that Von Ribbentrop could manage.
Jahn kicked each of the Russian corpses before relieving them of their bread-bags.
“We’re headed Northwest, I assume you are too?” W.F. asked politely.
Von Ribbentrop grabbed his submachine gun and slung it on his back as Erika continued to sob. “Well, best not to stay here, at any rate. Northwest? “
“Northwest”, W.F. confirmed. “Better keep her quiet. Never know if there are more of these fellows' friends lurking in the woods.”
Von Ribbentrop grabbed both of Erika’s arms in a surprisingly strong grip and shook her, quieting her with whispers of love and devotion.

Both W.F. and Jahn watched this display with mixed emotions, although the foremost was simple amusement. “Trust a sailor to find a woman in a forest.” W.F. finally and disdainfully remarked to Jahn, before leading the four of them into the woods.


It wasn’t intended to be a punishment that separated Feldwebel Prit from his beloved scarlet StuG, although it felt to him like it was. What had happened was relatively simple. The StuG took a very bad hit to the engine from a Russian anti-tank gun and almost burned out. While it was being repaired, Division “temporarily” reassigned him to the Aufklarung’s Abteilung, which had plenty of openings from casualties amongst its vehicles’ crews. As a result, being an experienced armor commander and therefore a rare and valuable commodity, he quickly found himself assigned to command one of the Division’s Luchs. This was, to Prit, a terrible decision, as he was used to commanding a StuG with its' 75mm L/48 and well-capable of holding its own in a firefight with Red tanks. The “Luchs” with its 20mm gun was not only prohibited from fighting tanks but, because of its value as a recce vehicle, expected to perform its duties by hiding from the Reds.

This was not the kind of assignment to warm any fighting man’s heart, much less Prit’s--since his score of Red tanks destroyed while commanding a StuG put him in that rare category of those StuG commanders who had been awarded the Knight’s Cross and won immortal fame.

In fact, he frankly found his missions boring, which did not exactly endear him with any of his crew. Seeking, as usual, to spice his life up a bit, Prit had a bitter quarrel with the commander of his scouting section, Oberleutnant Otto Kline.

“But we can hear them!” Prit shouted.
“That’s not the point!” Kline shouted back. “Look, you know our orders, we’re to patrol, period and report any new developments to Division.”
“But they’re dying down there…..” Prit sputtered.
“I know that, but Division has written them off!” Both Kline and Prit were referring to the sound of Von Bellow’s doomed command fighting into the night. Division had sent its Panzer Aufklarung close enough to monitor the North road but not close enough to intervene. Even Kline had expected some effort by Division to aid the breakout on the Northern road, but no such orders ever came. That left them high and dry, listening to the sounds of a battle in the night that they didn’t want to hear and were unable to interfere with.

But the sound of the night's fighting grated on all of their nerves, as it was perfectly obvious that a real fight was going on somewhere South of their designated patrol area. That was the cause of the argument, as Prit insisted on permission to patrol further South, while Kline felt bound by his orders, no matter what was happening to the South.
Prit tried another approach. “Our orders are to patrol aggressively!”
Oberleutnant Kline shook his head.
“Some of them might make it through!” Prit insisted.
Kline shook his head again.
“It’s just one friggin' Luchs—do you think anyone’s going to miss it? Do you think it matters to Division in any way?” Prit thundered.
Kline relented slowly. It was only one recce vehicle and the possible stakes were so high. “Okay then, take your Luchs South—you have 24 hours, after that, you’ll be reported as missing. Try to make contact and we’ll see what Division wants us to do then.”
“Thank you Sir!” Prit’s gratitude was genuine. Kline still shook his head, but in his heart he recognized that the Feldwebel was totally right and Division was drastically wrong. It was an evil thing for Division to not offer any support at all to the breakout from Bad Frostberg, whatever the rationale. Sitting with their thumbs up their arses wasn’t going to stop the Reds, so he finally gave in to Prit’s pleading, if only to salve his own conscience.
Death is lighter than a Feather, Duty is heavier than a Mountain....
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Commissar D, the Evil
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Re: So....My Tank Corps in Prussia...

Post by Commissar D, the Evil »

Say Tom (or anyone else!), a ForumKreuz to the person who identifies the song embedded in this latest installment...... :wink: :wink: :wink:

Bestens,
David
Death is lighter than a Feather, Duty is heavier than a Mountain....
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Re: So....My Tank Corps in Prussia...

Post by Me-109 Jagdfleiger »

Commissar D, the Evil wrote:ERIKAS

The three Cossacks were grinning lustily from their horses. And Ribbentrop’s MP-40 sat placed up against the tree he sat under, just those few inches beyond his reach.

One of the Cossacks slowly dismounted, pulling his saber from its sheath and intent upon cutting the Leutnant zur See’s throat with a minimum of trouble.

Von Ribbentrop got to his feet, sweeping Erika behind him with one arm to face the threat without a weapon, but with the proper decorum of an officer in the Kreigsmarine.

The Cossack said something guttural which caused his companions to burst into laughter. Holding his naked blade in front of him, he stalked forward, intending to end this fight with one thrust.

“Blam!”

The bullet entered the back of the Cossack’s head and simply exploded it, splattering Von Ribbentrop with brain matter and skull fragments. Erika screamed long and loudly into Von Ribbentrop’s ear. Before the man’s two comrades could react, a pair of shots dropped them from their saddles. Their horses ran off in fear, once they were relieved of their human burdens.

.
\

:shock: another great chapter D.!
Jonathan
Cheers Jonathan,
Only the spirit of attack borne in a brave heart will bring success to any fighter aircraft, no matter how highly developed it may be.

— General Adolf Galland, Luftwaffe.
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Re: So....My Tank Corps in Prussia...

Post by Commissar D, the Evil »

Congratulations Jahn on your marksmanship! :up: :up: :up:
There was no need for caution against corpses.
You'll need that skill in the upcoming installments! :wink:

Bestens,
David
Death is lighter than a Feather, Duty is heavier than a Mountain....
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Re: So....My Tank Corps in Prussia...

Post by Me-109 Jagdfleiger »

I do have a 1944 vintage K-98 i have shot at 600 yard matches...perhaps i inherited skill form a past life :wink:
Keep up the good work D! :[]
Jonathan
Cheers Jonathan,
Only the spirit of attack borne in a brave heart will bring success to any fighter aircraft, no matter how highly developed it may be.

— General Adolf Galland, Luftwaffe.
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Re: So....My Tank Corps in Prussia...

Post by Tom Houlihan »

Commissar D, the Evil wrote:Say Tom (or anyone else!), a ForumKreuz to the person who identifies the song embedded in this latest installment...... :wink: :wink: :wink:
I recognized it as soon as I saw the slightly altered lyrics. Rather than steal the show, I think I'll just grab a snifter, and sick back while watching to see who claims the prize!
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Re: So....My Tank Corps in Prussia...

Post by Commissar D, the Evil »

Shooting at 600 yards is a gift my friend! No matter where the skill originated. I guess W.F. had you pegged right from the beginning! :D :up: :D

Very Best Regards,
David
Death is lighter than a Feather, Duty is heavier than a Mountain....
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Re: So....My Tank Corps in Prussia...

Post by Commissar D, the Evil »

I recognized it as soon as I saw the slightly altered lyrics. Rather than steal the show, I think I'll just grab a snifter, and sick back while watching to see who claims the prize!
Ahhhh, now there is a sniper indeed!!! Agreed Tom, let's see if any of the Kinder can identify the song! :D :D :D

Bestens Buddy!
David
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Re: So....My Tank Corps in Prussia...

Post by Me-109 Jagdfleiger »

It was funny when i showed up to the match with my K-98, everone there had thousand dollar rifles with expensive scopes and i had a $250 Mauser with iron sights and a little history... when i was up to shoot there were bets going back and forth on whether i could even hit the paper at that range..well 20 rounds later the targets come back and all rounds are on the paper... jaws droped all arround..including my own.. even got a pic of me on the firing line amongst all of the modern rifles
Jonathan
edited for tired eyes :wink:
Cheers Jonathan,
Only the spirit of attack borne in a brave heart will bring success to any fighter aircraft, no matter how highly developed it may be.

— General Adolf Galland, Luftwaffe.
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Re: So....My Tank Corps in Prussia...

Post by Commissar D, the Evil »

Hey Jahn, Now that's what I count as one of those personal triumphs that should be remembered for a lifetime.

Proves that all the modern equipment in the world doesn't count against skill!! Also proves just how da*ned good the Mauser design was. Odd thing about guns, age doesn't mean a worse weapon. Sometimes, the worse weapon is the newest one designed to replace the older one. Us old folks learned about this phenom when we read about the M-16 vs the M-14 in Vietnam. And remember, the AK-47 was a 1950s issue weapon!

Bestens,
David
Death is lighter than a Feather, Duty is heavier than a Mountain....
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Re: So....My Tank Corps in Prussia...

Post by Prit »

I guess if I can't ride into battle in my wonderful old StuG, then a Luchs is fine - it may have as much protection as a cardboard box, and the killing power of a dessert fork, but it more than makes up for it in mobility and reliability! Thanks for bringing me back, D!

And the song...well, yes, a nice touch. I wonder if there was ever a type of brandy called 'Erika?'

Cheers

Prit
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Re: So....My Tank Corps in Prussia...

Post by Tom Houlihan »

Prit wrote:.... and the killing power of a dessert fork,...
Ah, Prit, you type a clever tune...


If anyone could turn a dessert fork into a weapon, it would be Prit, the culinary master!
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Re: So....My Tank Corps in Prussia...

Post by AAA »

As splendid as ever,

I imagine, if you had a looking glass, you could see all the way to the sea.

Love the technical detail as always, differences between AP and HE trajectories of the 75mm indeed :D . Hey, I finally found a detail drawing Nahverteidigungswaffe on the 'net, I was always under the impression it was exterior mounted like smoke grenade dischargers, silly me. :up:
Smiling, Arajs waved at Hansen, which confirmed Hansen’s dark suspicions.
:D :D :D
Now that cracked me up ...along with form letters for kessels. And infantry assault badges on planes :up:
Tom Houlihan wrote:The un-edited page count is 138
Tom, what size pages? A paperback is around 350 words per page, about 50 000 words all up....
Prit wrote:.... and the killing power of a dessert fork,...
He who belittles this has never been stabbed at a proper dinner party punchup. @{
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Re: So....My Tank Corps in Prussia...

Post by Tom Houlihan »

AAA, that's in A4 size, but still mostly unedited.
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Re: So....My Tank Corps in Prussia...

Post by Commissar D, the Evil »

Sorry Guys, a little under the weather today. Too much of a good thing last night. :down: :down: :down:

I'll get back to the story tomorrow, I hope. (By the way, surprised that so many of you caught the lyrics--we're really showing our age, aren't we? :wink: :wink: :wink: Now as for Prit and his mini-tank....well, size isn't everything, is it? :D :D :D )

Bestens,
David
Death is lighter than a Feather, Duty is heavier than a Mountain....
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