Len Gilbert - The Furred Reich

“Clear out!” Wolff shouted and blew his whistle. The whole unit bolted for the exit as flames danced above every tent. Hot embers landed in Vahn’s fur and singed through his skin.

“Ennnngh!” A feminine grunt slid out from one of the burning huts, and a firmly-shaped white-furred vixen emerged and fell to her knees. She was clad only in a sheer, baby-blue fabric and her body was adorned with jewelry. Vahn picked her up over his shoulder and sprinted out of the burning camp with this group. They all dropped to the ground as a snow-colored horse bolted out of its burning stable and past the exit.

“Get back here!” Poetschke shouted and then fell to his knees on the ground. “Come back here you coward…”

Vahn looked to the sprinting equine again as it ran off into the horizon. Even from this distance, he squinted and saw Oxbane’s silhouette atop the horse.

The blonde Sturmbannfuehrer gasped for breath.

“Help…”

Vahn blew desperately into his whistle. One of his wolves and another human ran to Poetschke, lifted him to his boots and ran him out of the massive conflagration.

Vahn and the others ran alongside them. He bounded into wheat fields with the concubine still slung over his shoulder, protesting at the rough treatment. It was all over. Vahn wasn’t sure how many made it out, but it was done. He looked back to see his platoon following right behind him, as if they’d never lost sight.

TWEEEEEEEEEEEET!

Out of nowhere a whistle rang two times for combat readiness. In a moment everyone knew why he had done so. The ground began rumbling beneath all of them. Ratcheting sounds drew closer to the disorderly Kompanie. The Greenskins’ were coming back to ‘reinforce’ what they would soon find to be a charred camp.

“Get down!” Vahn yelled to his undersized platoon. He dropped the smooth vixen into the grass and then pressed himself against the soil.

“Stay put,” he growled at the shocked young woman, whose green eyes looked right into him nevertheless.

The enemy’s reinforcements were coming. Vahn picked up his field glass and saw a giant column of wooden and metal carts coming toward them.

“It’s rock bombers! Dig! Everyone dig now!” Wolff shouted just a few paces back.

The wolves began frantically trying to dig foxholes for themselves even though it was hopeless at this range. It would be far too late to get any cover.

Vahn knelt and stared at the contraptions. When he squinted he could see them closer. The operators of the wooden machines were felines with body armor and pointy hats. All of them had their hands on their head.

Then Vahn looked to the front and saw a human in gray and a black trench coat flowing in the wind. Though he was human, he looked unfamiliar. But right behind that man was Master Sepp! Even from a distance Vahn could see the triumphant grin upon Sepp’s face.

“It’s… It’s Master Sepp!”

All around, the Kompanie, both wolves and humans, were leaping out of the grass and running out to greet the other victorious comrades. Sepp was waving at them with both hands.

“They captured the rock-bombers! We’ve won, we’ve really won I can’t believe it!” Vahn yelled and grasped the confused young concubine by the shoulders.

“Hey! Heh-heh. There you are!”

Hans cut off the engine, then he and Tex rose from the sidecar. They were back at the camp, and Heinz Mertens stood there to greet them.

“Been waiting for you two! To give us the good news. Oh, she’ll be happy to see you, too. She’s recovered well.”

Hans beamed at the friendly mechanic, he picked up his helmet and the three of them made their way to the officer’s bunker.

“The doctor in?” Hans asked Mertens.

“No, no. Dr. Bruestle went to the front with the rest of them. It’s just myself, Postel and a few Wehrmacht stragglers that appeared yesterday. Peiper told us to stay and watch over Sarah.”

When Mertens opened the bunker door Sarah’s ears pricked up. She was sitting up on the cot, and when Hans came through the door she jumped up and clung to him.

Mertens chuckled. “That’s a happy ending for you, isn’t it?”

Hans kissed Sarah on the mouth before turning to the others.

“Now that I have my mate, Tex and I are going back to the front. Want to come with us?”

“We can’t. Have to make sure the stray wolves don’t take our food supplies. Standartenfuehrer’s orders. Ah, however…”

Mertens rummaged around in the back and unearthed several small containers of liquor and beer, then thrust the case into Hans’ arms.

“You bring that to the victory celebration for me. And make sure some goes to Sepp Dietrich and his wild animals.”

With Sarah in one hand and drinks in the other, Hans made for the door and Tex opened it for him.

“After you, Herr Hepner.”

“Why thank you, kind sir…”

Hans filed out the door and nearly bumped right into Generalmajor Postel, who was standing ramrod straight just outside. Late day sunlight reflected off the blackened skin around his eye. Tex suddenly looked like he wanted to disappear.

“Um, Herr Generalmajor, I sure hope there aren’t any hard feelings and I’m sorry about the other day,” Tex said.

Postel huffed.

“If it were up to me, both of you would be hanging from a rope. However, it isn’t up to me. You’ve both shown courage to beat an inhuman enemy, and that’s what matters most. Good day.”

Postel nodded to them and then stepped out of their way.

“’Good day?’” Tex asked as the three of them made their way to the sidecar, “what happened to ‘Heil Hitler?’ Generals don’t have to say that?”

“Well, I’m not really sure either…”

Hans placed the spirits on the floor of the sidecar, then hopped into the passenger bucket and motioned for Sarah to join him. She smiled and sat down on his lap. Tex sat on the motorcycle and planted his hands on the bars.

“’Bout time I get to drive this thing,” the Texan grinned and ignited the engine to a purr.

Hans watched the scenery and cuddled with his mate as they chugged through Wolven country. Every wolf they passed smiled and waved. Some jogged alongside them for awhile, and Tex was always eager to talk to them and exchange compliments and stories.

The camp’s blaring bonfires could be seen from a distance, and the pounding of drums could be heard from even further afield. As they neared camp, everyone had their eyes on the two humans and their machine. Tex parked right in the middle of the huts. One of the wolves came cautiously toward them.

“Is this Herr Hans? And the turtle-head?” He asked, a few of them giggling in the background.

“Yes, it is,” Hans answered, taking Sarah by the paw and helping her out of the sidecar.

“Nice to meet you. Are you hungry?”

“Yes sir, we sure are!” Tex blurted out.

“We just killed two deer and a wild boar. Lots of meat for all. Your friends Pipe-er and others are off over that way.”

“Is ‘Master Sepp’ here?”

“Master Sepp? He will be here later. He is on his way from freeing the Goldgrass towns and moving prisoners. Have some wild boar’s meat in the meantime, Mine Kam-y-rad! Heil Hit-luhr!”

A chorus of giggles followed the wolf’s last words. Sepp’s pack seemed very amused tonight, almost ecstatic. The Waffen-SS was in an altogether different mood. When Hans found Peiper, the Standartenfuehrer was sitting outside at a round table next to Poetschke and a few others Hans didn’t recognize. The orange-yellow flames of a nearby bonfire illuminated their solemn faces as they spoke with one another. Peiper raised his hand when he saw Hans.