Len Gilbert - The Furred Reich

“Herr Mertens, Gustav, you will come with me to eat. Herr Hepner has guard duty today and we will bring him his share of the ration. Los!”

The three of them looked hesitantly at one another, but both Gustav and Mertens followed Postel out of the half-dug bunker and toward the crackling fire where the crowd was gathered.

With a sigh Hans continued digging by himself when a howl rose up from the distance and pierced the darkening sky. A wolf? That couldn’t be. Not in Bavaria. A rush of sudden understanding fell on him like a torrent of kicked-up debris.

“There wolves in your country, Herr Hepner?”

The American prisoner interrupted Hans’ thoughts. Hans turned around and stared into Wheelis’ dark blue eyes.

“No. And why do you ask?”

“…Not many wolves in my country either. Who knows where we really are. You ever thought of that?”

Hans threw his spade onto the ground, walked up to the tall Texan and grabbed his uniform by the collar.

“Listen to me goddammit, because I’m only going to say this once. There is no American occupation here. This isn’t even our world. It’s some other realm. This might sound crazy to you, but we’re in a world where animals talk and walk on two legs. There are all kinds of creatures but I must get out of here right now because my mate is hurting and she needs me. And I don’t care whether you believe it or not.”

Wheelis stared back at Hans and didn’t budge as the young Landser berated him.

“I believe you. But the Fuehrer’s Leibstandarte never will. They’re going to keep you here just like they’re doing to me.”

“That’s what they think.”

“HOWDY STRANGER!”

Just then Gustav hopped into the trench and gave Hans a share of Venison chunks. It had been the first time in awhile that his mess tin had gotten much use. Postel and Mertens weren’t far behind. Neither was Diefanthal.

“Gentlemen,” the Sturmbannfuehrer instructed, “tonight guard duty is assigned to our newcomer, Gefreiter Hepner, who will remain on post until 04:00 hours to watch the river for activity and ensure that prisoners do not escape. For the rest of you, I expect sleep at no later than 21:00. Heil Hitler!”

“Hah-HAAA!” Gustav roared in laughter at Hans’ repeated misfortune. For his part, Hans tried to look upset. He and Wheelis nodded to each other discreetly.

That evening at about 11:30, Hans began kicking dirt in Tex’s direction. Tex opened his eyes and Hans motioned him up. Gustav and Mertens remained sound asleep. Hans climbed out of the trench and motioned for Tex to hand him the Mauser. Hans hoisted himself up and offered Tex a hand, but just then a figure emerged in camouflage from around the corner.

“I knew you two were up to something.”

It was Postel. He unsheathed his officer’s pistol and pointed it upwards at Hans.

“Listen,” Hans came back into the trench and pleaded.

“We’re not doing anything bad, Herr General-Major. I’ll tell you what’s happening: This isn’t Bavaria. We’re all in another world right now. I don’t know how, but it happened in a white light. This is a world where animals can talk and stand upright. The SS won’t believe us, but you have to, Herr General-Major!”

“Nonsense, you traitor. You’ll both hang for this. AUSBRUCH! HELP! AUSBRUCH!”

Suddenly Wheelis jammed the side handle of Hans’ rifle into Postel’s head. The impact knocked the Great War Veteran onto his face and sent his officer’s cap flying, exposing his thinned hair and pronounced scalp. Hans stood in horror at the sight of an officer down, but this was the only way. He pulled Tex out of the trench and they ran onto the frozen river. Shots were already ringing out from the camp. They could hear the shouting. Tex fired a few shots their way as they scrambled across.

“Come on, Tex, don’t aim so well.”

“Sorry Herr Hepner,” he whispered back as they both crawled into the darkness.

“You have an idea where we’re going?”

“Yeah. Across the river and to the east. A single tree. My mate is there.”

The lone pine tree was visible in the pale moonlight, and it took the two of them a few moments to get there. Perhaps half an hour. There was no indication that the SS were close behind.

“This is it,” Hans whispered and shoved the needle branches out of the way to behold Sarah’s lifeless body.

Sarah’s eyes opened and she jumped up, reaching for her mate. Hans embraced her in silence. She opened her mouth, but only a faint squawk came from her voice box.

“She doesn’t look well, Herr Hepner,” Tex drawled behind them, standing just outside the tree while glancing over his shoulder.

“I know. That’s why I have to take her back.”

The dressing Hans applied to Sarah’s neck was now stained in red.

“Umm—”

“Don’t worry Herr Wheelis,” Hans said. “I appreciate your help. You don’t have to come back with Sarah and I. If the SS wants to hold someone responsible, let me be the one.”

The tall American spun around and stared at the rising sun on the horizon and the sharp crags in the distance. He stood silently for a moment before sighing and giving Hans an answer.

“I… Couldn’t do that to ya, Herr Hepner. I’m gonna come back with you.”

“Are you sure? The SS hangs their own men for this. They won’t hesitate to do the same to us,” Hans told the American.

“I know. But what about the animals here? What’d you call them? ‘Furries?’”

“Yeah…”

“Well the ones here don’t seem any nicer than the SS.” Tex mused, stepping into the tree to rummage through Hans’ first aid kit.

“Besides, maybe now the SS will realize we aren’t in Germany anymore. Oh—found it. This’ll be perfect.”

Tex took a white dressing cloth, cut a hole in it and ran a long stick through. Together they lifted Sarah up and Hans carried her on his back into the nipping winter wind. Why an American would risk his life to help Hans still made little sense to him.

The two of them marched in silence for a few moments.

“How’d you find these people, Herr Tex?” Hans’ voice barely rose above the crunching of snow under their boots.

“Oh, that. Well. The war was already over. I’m not sure if you know about this, but there were some trials right after the war. Really big ones.” The American gestured.

“I was put in a prison guard unit.”

“Really. So, uh, did you see anyone?”

Tex nodded, “Yes, about two dozen of them—”

Just then a bullet cracked through the morning sky and whizzed over their heads.

“HALT! ACHTUNG! HALT!”

It hadn’t taken the Fuehrer’s elite long to find the two escapees. Really, he and the American were lucky to even have gotten to Sarah.

Tex hoisted up his impromptu white flag and put Hans’ Mauser on the ground. The two of them kept marching at the line of men in camouflage and black waistcoats. At the front stood Diefanthal, who looked to have worked up a murderous fury.

The Leibstandarte’s anger soon turned to bewilderment when they saw the female snow leopard atop Hans’ back. They looked at each other, then to Diefanthal.

“…Mein gott…” Diefanthal’s face turned pale.

That was when Hans summoned up courage enough to give the Fuehrer’s best men a dressing down.

“Achtung! You see?” he said, walking in front of them.

“This isn’t our world anymore.” Hans trudged up to them with Sarah on his back. “Put those damn guns down and help me, this one needs to see a medic now!”

Again the men looked to Diefanthal, who struggled to regain his composure.

“…Zwigart, Siptrott! Get back to the Standartenfuehrer. Tell him we need a god-damn stretcher! The rest of you, march these two prisoners back! Not a word from either one of you criminals or it’s der Todt !”