Chapter Three: Disaster Strikes

 

            My ears were ringing, my head was rolling in my own thoughts I was shocked at how easy life could be taken away, swept away like dust. I kept thinking “Can this happen. Will this happen to me? What will become of me?” I couldn’t take it and I had to rest, soon, very soon.

            We checked the area, there were a few soldiers still alive, and they were shot. It was almost certainly a relief; they had to be in immense pain. And then one of our soldiers, who seemed to take control of most of our operations out here on the field, radioed in.

            “Sir, the coast is clear, we can prepare for March”

            “Good, we will be moving soon, get your men away from the hill, and get into marching positions; we will all regroup and move out.”

            We all were ordered to marching order, and we lined up in single file lines, five lines across and about fifty soldiers on each line. We had about two-hundred soldiers with us, we lost about ten in the battle, and none wounded, all shot, and killed by the Russians, like Bruno. I promise, I will have my revenge. Russia will fall, and I will make sure of it.

            Now that I was calming down, I looked at the sun, it was about four PM. We were told to relax, because the commanders were all trying to coordinate their troops. We all stayed alert, but sat on the ground, or walked around to calm down. I just tried to keep my mind off my lost friend. I looked around at the landscape. It was beautiful, there was a forest off to our left, and to our right was a lake with no birds-I can only assume they flew away from the entire ruckus we made- and in front of were more rolling hills, and grassland.

            Finally, we received marching orders “Men, prepare for March, we are departing in three minutes, now move!” With a heavy, sad heart, I gathered my gear. I reloaded my rifle, made sure my pack was secure, and threw my rifle sling over my soldier. We all got in line, waiting for the order, and soon the German war machine would be on the move, yet again.

            The men in front started marching, and so the rest fell in as well. The sounds of boots hitting the ground, backpacks clunking, rifles flailing left and right with each step, I imagine it would be intimidating on the opposite end. It sounded like a thousand ants marching together in unison.

            As we were marching, tanks were moving to our left and right, completely diminishing our view to the left and right, it was disappointing, as I wanted to see the view, but I guess that was a no.

            It has been hours we have been marching, and it was starting to chill, and it was getting dark. We were given orders to setup here; we would sleep, then resume our march in the morning.

            There were certain soldiers whose jobs were to take care of the soldiers on the front. Weather that means to cook food, help the wounded, or whatever the case may be. This time they were setting up our tents. We were all starving, but we were told we would not eat any cooked food until we arrived in a town next morning, where some soldiers would stay behind to setup base, and work there.

            We all picked a tent, three people to a tent, it was quite crowded, and you only had a small space for your items and gear. I got in my tent, laid my pack, and equipment down by my bedside, and sat on my bed, thinking about Bruno, my only friend I have met out on the front.

            I sat like that for god knows how long, my hands on my chin, just sitting there, staring and thinking. I started to think of home, oh how I missed it so.

            I remembered that we were issued some food to carry on the field, so I looked to my left for my bad and picked it up and rummaged through the first pouch for my “food” they called it.

            It was just some type of flavored bread, it wasn’t much, but I had two of them, so I would eat one now, then the next in the morning before we marched out.

            One of the men in my tent was sound asleep, the other was reading a book, I tried to see what the book was called, but couldn’t see the name in the poor lighting the one lamp in the room provided, so I decided to ask him.

            “Excuse me, what is the name of the book you’re reading?”

            “It’s just a book on Greek warriors, and mythology” He said quickly, not even looking gup, clearly wanting to get back o his book.

            Trying to make conversation I said

            “Where are you from?”

            “Berlin” He said again, with really paying attention to me, and not taking his eyes off his book. I thought it would be best to stop talking to him, either he’s just a rude person, or he’s really concentrating.

            I rubbed my eyes and yawned. Laid down in my cot, and fell asleep within minutes.

            Neeyaauum BOOM Were the sounds that woke me that morning. I was startled and dazed from the sudden explosion, and sound of Plaines scurrying off into the distance. They came and gone so quickly, nobody had the chance to react, so they easily got away, flying back the way they came, deeper into Russia.

            I checked my watch, it was about six am, and we were scheduled to get up at seven. Early rise today I guess, thanks Russians, I thought. Then I heard shouts of “Medic, Mein gott help us!” It sounded like nine or ten people, and quite close, they couldn’t be that far away. Then three men ran in front of me, carrying empty stretchers, light as could be, they would soon be heavy filled with a dead, or wounded body.

            I followed the medics, hoping I could be of use, but I lost them in the frenzy of excitement from the whole camp running around, trying to see what was going on. Well, i decided there were too many soldiers to cut through, so I headed back to my tent to wait and get the news later, boy am I glad I did.

            Then the plane that just bombed us, returned, this time with a huge splotch of German soldiers, right there on the ground. I heard him approaching, and the shouts of the soldiers, and I stared at the soldiers, about fifty yards away, that were about to get blown up.

            I guess the plane only had one bomb, because he pulled up, and when he had enough altitude, pulled back down, flying at the ground, and firing his marching guns like a mad. The screams form the soldiers were blood curdling, you could hear the bullets ripping through flesh, bone, tent, and hitting the ground. Then I thought he was going to crash into the ground, killing at least the thirty men piled up in one group, but right as the last second, he pulled up and was high tailing it back the way he came. I hoped I would never see him again.

            Command called in medic trucks, and the rest of the soldiers were ordered to stay out of the way, and go to their tents, and wait for further orders. Some men were pulled out to go setup the AA guns, so if they tried this again, they would be shot down.

            The Russians didn’t try it again, because in two hours of evacuating our wounded, and dead, they didn’t come back. They probably knew we would have our AA up by now. We were all called to attention. When we ran outside of our tents, standing at attention waiting for further orders, I only noticed one person beside me, the man who was sleeping in our tent the night before. Then it hit me, the man who was reading his book was in the crowd, and either wounded, or killed. The thought sent shivers down my spine, how easily a life could be taken. This is the second person I would have my revenge for.

            We were ordered to the front of the camp, where the commander was waiting, presumably to give a speech on what just happened, and let us know how many dead.

            “Men” He stared off with, urgency in his voice. “The Russians have attacked up, dealing our first hard hit, killing thirty men, and leaving forty alive, but most wounded. We will take our revenge for those thirty Germans they killed, with one thousand Russians, and then some. We must learn to be more careful, this kind of tragedy cannot happen again, ever, not under my command. We move out in thirty minutes, and we will be approaching the medium size town of Kreznov, there should be little resistance, mostly towns people taking arms, but there should be no military resistance, Dismissed!”

            After the speech, it gave us all a little morale boost that we greatly needed.

            I returned to my tent, and ate the last of my food I had from last night, and gathered my gear. I was ready in about ten minutes, so I stood up, and walked outside for a walk.

            I walked up and down in front of the tents, taking in the fresh air, trying to put the death of the man who was reading the book out of my head, along with all the other that were killed, and wounded.

            I decided to just go and get to the front of the camp, the way we would depart, and prepare to leave. I walked through all the tents back to the front, my legs like stone, my feet unwilling to move, and my brain still racing to figure out why those men had to die, and at the same time thankfully I returned to my tent instead of going to see what was going on, after all, I could been of the death figures.

            When I arrived at the front, the tanks were moving back into position to get ready to move, orders being shouted, men running from left and right, shouting to others, trying to get ready for the advance deeper into Russia, yet again. But here I was, standing in the middle of it with a few other soldiers, waiting for our departure.

            “Men, get ready, were going now!” Shouted the commander, before running back to his tank, a safe distance from the front of the pack, in case we were attacked, and his tank fell under attack. He also had another vehicle he used, it was like a small mobile office, it was heavily armored, and so was the truck that pulled it.

            We were all ready to move, the men were assembled, ready to march, the tanks were refueled and ready to go, and we all had one thing in common, our hate for the Russians grew, and our hunger also grew, but when we entered Kreznov, we would eat well.

            “March!” Shouted the men in the front, and they began to move. We marched again, for hours. My feet ached, my back hurt, and my mind was cloggy, but I marched, following the man in front of me. We did this for miles, crossing the beautiful countryside, the peaceful countryside, and with every step further into Russia we took, it became less, and less peaceful, it became a warzone, our warzone.

            We were informed that we were not but a mile from the town, so our tanks rushed ahead to check things out, if there was trouble from the civilians, I’m sure the barrage of fire our tanks would deliver would change their mind.           

            We were ordered to take a small rest and wait for orders from our commander. I sat down, on a small rock and placed my head in my hands, sitting like this for what felt like forever just waiting. With what energy I could muster, I lifted my head and looked around. The landscape has changed slightly, it’s more flat now, but I guess it would be hard to see the changes with the tanks to my left and right during our marches.

            We finally got our orders to move out, and we got back into marching position. You could barely see the town in the distance, and the slight sound of occasional tank fire.

            I guess the townsfolk really weren’t giving us that much of trouble as we thought. First bit of good news I have heard in a while.

            Finally, we got close to the town, and there was a sign written in Russian that said

“�"обро пожало™ать ™ нашу спра™едли™ую города, Kreznov” Meaning

            “Welcome to our fair town, Kreznov”

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.