Chapter One: Preparations

Keep in mind, I am writing this book from a Germans point of view, this does not represent my thoughts at all, it's just about a Germans point of view during World War Two.

Chapter One: Preparations

 

 

            When I finally woke up to the sounds of our tanks arriving behind us I was relieved, it was a friendly sound to hear. I don’t like being out here along without my amour right next to me. I’m part of the 13^th Panzer division, and I’m not lucky enough to be in the tanks, I’m the infantry who moves up without tanks. To be blunt, I don’t expect to live very long, but as long as I die with pride, courage, and for my Fuhrer and for my Fatherland, I’m quite okay, I’m quite okay.             

            Of course, that’s what we all think; it’s all just as simple as that, fight and die. But I had no idea what TRUE fear was, not yet anyway, but soon enough, little did I know, I will.

            We were sitting in out foxholes, right across from the border of Russia, most of the German war machine, ready to pounce at our enemy at any moment, like a lion stalking its prey. All were doing now, is just waiting for the order, then we cross into Russia in “Operation Barbarossa” the death of the Bolsheviks, and the death of the Russians

            “God, this is taking forever, can we just get on with it?” the man in the foxhole next to me said, clearly looking irritated that we have just been sitting here waiting for the attack to begin for hours.

            “You know, I don’t know why we even are pulling so many troops over here, the Bolsheviks will fall within months, heck, maybe not even a full month” he said cockily, but he just kept going on and on, clearly trying to start a conversation, but I was half listening and half not, I was too focused on what was coming. The remaining forces from our attack point finally started to arrive, I could tell we would be leaving soon, and that’s when fear started to grab me.

            I sat here thinking, Why am I afraid? What is there to fear, the Russians have a pathetic military, they are stuck in the past, their military will be no match, it will just be the massive amount of land to claim from them that will take the most time. My head started to spin, and I was getting dizzy just thinking about it all.

            As if on cue, the soldier in my foxhole started to speak to me again

            “You know, I can tell you’re afraid, why? There is nothing to fear, the Russians expect us to attack, they are being informed from their spy’s that we are on their doorstep, but their military is so slow to come and confront us, they can’t even reach us quick enough to see us cross into their borders, and when they do, they will be crushed.”

            “Yeah I guess” I replied shakily

            “You guess? HA, have you not seen how easily everyone else fell to us, they didn’t even put up a fight, they couldn’t put up a fight, and the same is for them, you’ll see. So, what is your name?”

            “Might help to know the man that will be watching my back, ya know?”

            “My name is Hans, and how about you?”     

            “Oh me, I’m Bruno, from Munich. You don’t talk much do you?”

            “No.” I replied, trying to get him to leave me alone, he’s not helping my nerves, I started to think he was a psychopath, I could see that he could not wait to have Russian blood on his hands. He kept staring at me for a few seconds, expecting me to say something, but I just stared on, into the lands we would soon invade,  as we invaded, waving the flag of Germany, and the flag of Nazi party, singing our marching songs, to let the Russians know who has arrived, and on what terms. After a moment of staring at me, he just mustered up a small laugh, I think it was just to break the tension, or maybe he was nervous himself.  Whatever it was, it made me feel more uncomfortable.

            The sun was staring to come up a little bit, you could just barely see the ground it was illuminating, and you could see the red fiery surge, staring back at you. It was an eerie sight. I’m guessing were waiting for the sun to get up a little farther, so our tanks can drive without running us over. No complaints here let me tell you that!

            The air was chilly, not cold, and just chilly. After a while of trying to warm up by doing a few stand in place exercises, I just decided to sit down in my foxhole and rest. I crossed my arms, lit up a cigarette, and closed my eyes, trying to warm up a little bit. While it was not winter yet, it was still freezing cold. Bruno never left his stance, he always was standing up, looking back and forth at our tanks and the rest of our soldiers, just waiting to cross the border into Russia, he couldn't wait, but to be honest I could, I could wait a long while. His head was always darting from the advancing lines, in front of us, then the following tanks behind us, his head shooting around like a chicken with its head cut off. It was a funny sight to see, because he hasn't stopped doing it in the hours we have been here.

            Now that the battle was getting close with every second, my heart started to race even more, my adrenalin started to rush, harder than I have ever felt in any other battle, all I knew is that we were waiting for the other two attacking groups to ready, then the German war machine moves into Russia, killing every opposing force in its path with ease. I sat there, with my arms crossed for what felt like hours, but a quick check of my watch assured me it has only been an hour. I finally stood up, felt like I needed to take a walk, or do something to clear my head and nerves.

            I got up, and pulled myself out of my foxhole.

            “Hey, what do you think you’re doing? You can’t leave, we were ordered to stay put” Bruno said, with a concerned look on his face.

            “I need to go for a walk, try not to kill any Russians before I get there okay?” I said with a slight grin

            He looked at me and said “What if you’re stopped by an officer?”

            “Uhhh, Oh, I got it. Il just tell him that I’m delivering a message from another officer to the back of the lines.”

            And with that, I walked off before he could object, or even reply. I made sure to walk as if it looked like I was going to the back to relay a message; I had to walk at a quick pace, with a serious look on my face. As I was walking, I was amazed at how many tanks we were preparing for the invasion. Why so many? It’s not like we needed this many; I mean there had to be thousands of tanks! Were we being lied to? Were the Russians really this big of a threat? I thought it couldn't be so, and walked on, trying to avoid all the officers around me. All of a sudden, the tanks started up, and I jumped, and thought there was an earthquake, it was startling. I was glad I was on the good side, the German side, the winning side.

            “You there, what are you doing? Get up to the front, we are moving out!”

            I was just glad he didn’t integrate me even further, if I said I was relaying a message, I would have to run farther back into the army of tanks, out of his sight, and then back to the front, so he knew I wasn't lying. If I were to just run back to the front after telling I had a message to take back, he would know I was lying, and would shoot me with his pistol, thinking I was a spy, or sabotaging something. It would be like someone asking you where you were going, and saying          

            “I’m going to the store.” And then walking the complete opposite direction from the store, and back home, just wouldn't make sense.      

            I quickly ran as fast as I could trying to avoid getting near the tanks, for fear they would all take off and smash me beneath their treads. God, they were huge, with the tanks alone, the Russians stood no chance, I mean, the tank was almost impenetrable, with its sloped amour, the barrel of the tanks were enough to take out a Russian tank in one hit, even if it hit a non-lethal spot on the tank the explosive round was enough to kill any tank of the day, and we had thousands of rolling war machines, what could the Russians have to fight this? They were dead, plain and simple.

            I was still running, panting like a dog, trying to avoid the tanks what would surely surge forward any second, but they were halted, waiting for the final order.

            When I finally reached our foxhole, I jumped in, and sat down like I was before, just waiting for the final order, just like our tanks.

            “Where have you been?” Bruno shouted when I sat down into the foxhole.

            “I thought for sure you were going to get caught up in the tanks assault forward that you would have been run over, but I guess you got back here just in time huh?” He smiled as he said that. Just then, the tanks started to move, the sounds of the treads send shivers down my spine. I looked at him, my heart pounding, ears ringing from fear. I just looked forward, waiting for the infantry to get our orders.

            With that, I heard a German officer shout, “Marching positions men, Operation Barbarossa Begins……….NOW!” 

Author's Note

I am wanting the review to focus on how interesting the story is, and how well it's written. I'm not too worried about punctuation, as i can fix that later.

Reviews

[dw817]

⊰ℛℛ⊱
Can I say I am most impressed as to the form, function, and finesse of your writing in here ! As for the story itself it seems a mite grim, but some of the best written ones are. About Germany and World War 2 ?

[WriterInTheWorks]

Thank you, as this is my first book, i'm happy to hear this.

[dw817]

For someone born around the turn of the century, I would be curious to know why you would write fan-fiction for a time period that was definitely a dark one for mankind ? Instead of rockets, superheroes, or Pokemon ?

[WriterInTheWorks]

Well, i love German WW2 history. I mostly read holocaust books and WW2 books. I love history, and stuff like that, and it interests me so. The other stuff does not catch my attention, i never read that kind of stuff. I guess i'm just more mature for my age. While it can be good in some ways, i never seem to connect with kids my age. I don't read the same type of books they do, i watch history channel (When there is actual history, thanks to reality TV crap) I don't play call of duty and all that. I tend to play strategy games, war games where you have to manage your army and all that. I Just don't seem to connect with kids my age, it'a a bit of a curse in a way, but i'm glad on the other hand. I just love history, and things where you use your brain. Also, i know a lot about WW2. I don't mean my education for WW2 is just from school, i mean outside of school i'm watching documentary's, reading books, I have talked to a couple of actual Holocaust survivors, all that stuff, and that is not limited to just WW2. I don't know, maybe i'm weird? I honestly cant tell you why exactly, it's just how I am.

[WriterInTheWorks]

Here Maybe you can get a sense of how i write, let me post you another thing i wrote when i was feeling down.

Flames. The world burns beneath my feet, lost beyond the world of the living lies the souls of the dead. I take a moment to draw my sword from the inflamed bodies of the dead, covered in blood. The blood on the blade begins to boil, then evaporates as the metal becomes bright red with heat. I can hear yelling, looking up I notice a last man running at me, war axe in hands. He draws close, swinging his axe down at me. I move to the side, dodging the blade narrowly. I swipe my sword, cutting his axe handle clean in two. I take a moment to look him in the eyes, as he realizes his life is futile. His loyalty, is worthless. I watch his eyes, the fear that burns like a flame. I touch the tip of my sword to his chest, gently. His body soon becomes engulfed in flames, as he screams for the sooth sensation of water. But I cannot satisfy that wish. I push the sword into his body, the hot blade cuts through him like nothing. The light slowly fades from his eyes, a last shining hope he might live. Then it goes out. His body drops to the ground, as I stand over it. His life as useless in life as death. I walk forward, stepping over the dead and burned bodies of the army that once stood here. My footprints leaving the earth scorched. But this is the end, and not the beginning.

[WriterInTheWorks]

Hey, second chapter is up, let me know what you think there as well!

[dw817]

Just here and answering stuff now. As for your FLAMES above, I think you may find in time it is not so much necessary to destroy your enemy (imagined or otherwise) as it is to come to terms and mediate with them.

Will read your 2nd chapter. :)