Last One Standing

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Disclaimer: I do not own any of the art involved in this story, they belong to their respective artists and owners. I want to make something else very clear, the main character in this story is a member of a very controversial WW2 unit. Because of that, people may believe I support said group or their ideology and I want to make it very clear that such assumptions or thoughts are very wrong indeed, I do not support such group or their ideology by any means.

Demyansk Pocket: 21st of April, 1942

Sitting in one of the defensive trenches along the western flank of the 10th Armeekorps , Aleksander Bergmann was smoking a cigarette he had pilfered off a dead comrade who had half their head blown apart from a PTRS rifle. Before they took the body away, Aleksander had grabbed the packs of cigarettes and personal belongings so his family would get them properly. Unlike others who were slightly looking over the trench to keep their eyes out for the Soviet's, Aleksander sat on the cold wooden bench as he smoked and his MP-40 laid in his lap. The man himself has been fighting since the war started, from Poland to France and now here he is, stuck in a cold and wet trench far from a warm bed and a hot meal, half of his friends already dead and that includes most of the men in his platoon. A shrill shrieking sound overhead breaks him of his thoughts, eyes widening as he knows what is screaming through the air like banshees towards them.

"Runter!!" He yells out, many other voices echo this as the men get as low into the trench as they can. Many ducking down into dugouts made of dirt and wood, Aleksander closes his eyes as the rockets sent towards them by the Soviet Katyusha's impact around them. Feeling mud and snow raining down on his back, he turns his head momentarily and opens his eyes to see one of the rockets make a direct hit further down the trench. This explosion that he witnesses sends pieces of human flesh, mud and all forms of debris flying into the air. Aleksander's eyes widen even more when he sees the mangled form that was once a fellow soldier flop to the ground, after being sent skyward by the explosion.

 
    "Feindliche Front!!" Multiple voices call out or yell variations of those words, Aleksander gets up from his position and stands on the bench. Looking over the trench he brings his MP-40 to bear, clicking the safety off and taking aim. The ripping chatter of MG-34's greet his ears from further down the line and soon enough he sees the forms of Soviets and their tanks coming through the mist.

  Guns opened up in the hundreds as the men in the trenches and various fighting positions fired on the advancing Russians, the concussive blast of Pak 38's filled the air as the crews targeted the Soviet vehicles. One scored a direct hit, as the T-34 itself ruptured into flames as its tracks kept the burning wreck moving for a few more feet before it stopped. Aleksander himself fired short bursts from his MP-40, each pull of the trigger saw a Soviet dropping to the ground. Were it not for the fact he absolutely despised them and their existence, he would commend them for their bravery in attacking a well entrenched force. Aleksander ducked down as dirt and snow flew up into the air in front of him, reaching to his belt he pulled a Stielhandgranate from its holding point, he would unscrew the bottom and then pull the pin before sending the grenade flying over the top of the trench. A yell in Russian alerted him to how close they were getting, before said yell was silenced by the explosion of the grenade. Aiming back over the top of the trench, he fires a burst of shots into the face of a wounded Soviet that was laying a few feet from the trench, then reloaded his weapon. After killing him, he turned his attention to other enemy soldiers before an enemy grenade flew over his shoulder and down into the trench behind him. Aleksander was just about to yell out when the grenade went off, the concussion throwing him against the trench wall but not killing him or injuring him badly. The wet ground had allowed the grenade to sink deeply enough that it took a majority of the explosive power and shrapnel when it exploded. Having fallen to the bench he was standing on, Aleksander's helmet fell off as he was disoriented and dizzy. Both of his ears ringing, he could barely hear anything being said to him by the medic that had rushed over to him after the grenade had went off, a smack to his head by the medic cleared his senses up quickly and he was able to focus on what was being said.

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