Len Gilbert - The Furred Reich

Vahn stared out over the precipice to view the same thing: Greenskin attackers being mauled and jumped on, their black blood coloring the pristine snow.

TWEEEEET!

Petch-Key’s mad whistle sounded again, clearing out the holes and trenches for a headlong attack. All of them picked up spears and charged out at the Greenskins.

“Yeah!”

The trench erupted in excitement as they watched Kristiyan flawlessly run a raider through and deliver the death blow to another wolftaur. It was Kristiyan’s third kill. And yet still the monsters thundered forward on foot from behind. Their large numbers and fierce axes overwhelming the thin line of spear-wielding wolves.

“Get out!” A lieutenant shouted at Kasha and the tripod gunners.

“They’ve broken through. Grab a spear, go!”

The frantic officer was mustering whatever defense he could to hold the position, leaving the tripods unmanned. The monsters broke toward the trench before the ‘leutnant’ could even gather a second defense. Nobody stood between the Greenskins and the dugout.

“Don’t let them through!”

The lieutenant turned his head and darted to the tripod.

“Mein leutnant,” Kasha shouted over the noise, “feed the ballista arrows into the cartridges. I can fire this.”

The lieutenant, Kasha’s superior, dropped his spear and shoved three ballistas into the cartridge one-by-one. Up above, the Raiders already had the wolves panicking and running back to the trench.

“Aim at the middle now,” Kasha thought to himself. Trembling, he launched the first ballista only for it to sail past one of the Greenskin’s head.

“For the love of the gods, hit them!” The lieutenant shouted.

It was too late. The first monster pounded into the trench next to them. Kasha shook his head and trained his sights to the still-charging monsters, picked the closest target and launched the ballista. This time it slammed against the Greenskin’s chest and slid through, killing him. Kasha looked over and saw the lieutenant had abandoned the position and joined the trench fracas that seemed to be closing in like a vice from both sides. Just ahead a Greenskin jumped for the trench and aimed directly for Kasha and the tripod. Kasha closed his eyes and pulled the trigger one last time. He felt the tripod kick back and the Greenskin fell down dead, covering the trench as the fighting closed in around him.

He heard a crash and thud to his left. It was Kristiyan, leading a small pack of wolves.

“That you in there Kasha?”

“Yes Herr Kristiyan!” He shouted, pulling the tripod out and shoving the monster’s cadaver to the front of the trench.

“Does the tripod still function?”

“Jawohl.”

“Good, set it back up and then pick up a spear. Your platoon commander was killed. I am putting you in charge. There are fourteen left plus yourself. Our Kompanie is going on the attack. Choose ten of them to advance, and four to stay in the trench.

Even as they spoke, the last of the hand-to-hand combat was winding down within earshot. Kasha had never lead anyone before. He felt queasy, and Kristiyan must have noticed it.

“You don’t have a choice, Kasha.”

“Sir, I know. But if I may ask, why are we attacking when we are so outnumbered?”

“Poetschke’s Kompanie broke through in the south. He is driving to retake Balaton and take out Oxbane’s camp. We must push forward in the north, too, to cover his flank during the attack. I’ve decided we must advance some one hundred Terras, and then we’ll dig in there.

A crowd had gathered outside the bunker, and they all hushed when Peiper walked through them up to the bunker door, with Hans following closely behind.

“Please wait here,” Peiper said to Hans, then turned to the crowd.

“Kameraden, I will address our situation shortly. Gefreiter Hepner has some personal matters, and I ask you for all to respect his privacy.”

Peiper opened the bunker door and Hans entered the cavern. Peiper followed him though and shut the door. Tex glanced over at them. Dr. Bruestle was focused on the patient on the table, Sarah.

“She’s going to make it,” the doctor said.

Hans felt a huge weight leave his shoulders when he heard the good news.

“But,” he continued, “she has damage to her voice box. She won’t be able to speak for a long time, maybe never again.”

Hans looked down at his mate. She looked as relieved as he was.

“Everything’s going to be alright now. See? These humans are nice. They will help to protect you and you will live with me.”

Sarah looked up and smiled, then nodded softly and shut her eyes.

“She’ll need time to recover, I believe,” Dr. Bruestle said.

“The good thing is that she isn’t too scared of us anymore. I still have a little more work to do, but she’ll be able to finally rest this evening.”

Hans thanked the surgeon, and then Peiper joined them by the table.

“Herr Hepner, if you don’t mind, I owe it to everyone to explain what’s going on. And I will need your help to do so.”

“Oh. Hm. What would you have me do, Herr Standartenfuehrer?”

“Hopefully nothing. But the men outside need to know what’s happened to them, and you’re the man to best answer any questions they may have.”

Hans nodded and gave Sarah’s paw one final squeeze. He went back outside with the commander. The crowd had grown larger. It looked as if around 200 men were gathered around. Most of them wore SS collars.

“ Kamerads ,” Peiper took their attention.

“We were all very mistaken about our situation. This is not Bavaria. To you this may sound strange, but we are in some other world. Some other place. And the injured woman in that bunker is living proof of that.”

“I don’t know this world at all, but one of our comrades has trekked in it for months to the place we now stand. He told me stories of animals that stand upright like we do. Some friendly, some not. He says this world has empires, large cities on far-off shores, magic, of expansive forests and terrible beasts. We also may not be alone. Someone is flying one of our aircraft over the cities of this world. These are all things we may face, or perhaps not.”

“But, more importantly, for you, I want you to know that our war is over. The ancient virtues we rekindled and held up were hated by various governments of the world. Luckily for us, the indolence and hate of those nations are not present in this world, and in good time I believe you’ll find that a blessing. You all deserve long, prosperous, lives. That’s what I intend on creating here. A place made in our image, by our ideals and ours alone.”

“Starting tomorrow! We will begin building a modest place for every man here, and we will not stop until every one of you has a roof over your head that you can call your own.”

Within the crowd many faces turned to smiles at the commander’s last statement.

“I want to introduce you to Gefreiter Hans Hepner.”

Hans looked down as all eyes shifted to him.

“Gefreiter Hepner is the one who has journeyed in this world for several months. He has had contact with many races. Consider Gefreiter Hepner to be our guide and our ambassador to the outside world. He is from the Grossdeutschland and, from my impressions, he is a good man worthy of your trust.”

“Over there,” Sturmbannfuehrer Poetschke’s voice directed Vahn’s attention to a hillock crowned by an old wooden drinking trough. It looked abandoned.

“Search that area. There has to be some people hiding around here.”

Poetschke’s Kompanie had pushed out of Wolven territory, but even still their commander was trying to evacuate villagers as their battle group drove east, closer toward Oxbane’s encampment.