10th September, 1942: Stalingrad, Soviet Union
The flames of Stalingrad billowed high. Higher than the clouds. The firestorm had been blazing nonstop since the 23rd of August. But now, Werner's skin felt like he had shoved his face into an open fire. Werner was staring into hell incarnate. But what could he do but charge into the fiery depths?
If he turned back now, he'd be treated the same as the traitors, the killers, the madmen, and the rapists among the Wehrmacht's ranks. He would be a traitor. And what about his pregnant wife, Reita? She would be hunted down and executed by the Gestapo. Werner shivered. And then sighed. And then hummed,"Da da da da da da da. Dun dun dun dun dun dun.", his comrades turned their heads
"Heute wollen wir marshiert...", Werner heaved out a heavy breath. ".....Einen neuen Marsch probieren!", Werner sang. Clapping followed, and Otto joined in,"Durch den Schonen Westerwald!", he sang, his old smile returning to his face.
They followed the tanks into the city. Russian artillery exploding all around them. Housing collapsing in on it's self. In these four story apartment buildings, that would guarantee the demise or survival of the person nearby.
"Otto! Richtofen! Erhardt! To me!", Werner's comrades approached his location. "Feuer frei!", Werner shouted, and fired down on the Russians on the first floor. Several of them fell limp, bleeding onto the collapsed concrete. "Behind cover!", Werner shouted, as an Anti-tank round smashed into the multiple layers of concrete, leaving a cut across Werner's eyebrow. Werner held his MP40 sideways, the bullets smashing into the Russian's skull as he prepared to return fire. Otto deployed his machine gun, and fired bursts into the courtyard below. Followed by screaming. "Otto. What do you see?", asked Werner.
"A railway, Hauptmann. And another set of apartment buildings."
This statement was followed by the sound of artillery smashing into Stalingrad. "Let's move!", Werner said as the barrage concluded. They moved down into the first floor. Otto redeployed his machine gun. Tat tat tat tat tat tat, it could've been merely the rain against a glass window had it not been so rapid, and loud. "Those stars. On their helmets. That's Rodimtsev's 13th Guards Division. NKVD.", Werner said to Richtofen. "Russian SS so to speak?" Werner nodded. "Und...", Werner halted for a moment,"FEUER!"
His machine cut down the NKVD soldier like butter. Richtofen reloaded his G-41, and fired, another NKVD officer hit the railway. Richtofen fired another shot, it passed through the railcars and cleanly into the Russian's skull. "NACH OBEN!", Werner said, taking cover behind the railcars that Richtofen had shot through.
Otto followed suit, and then, in quick succession, two bullets hit Otto, and he fell to the ground, his stomach gushing blood. "OTTO!", Werner shouted, running to his friend's side. He lifted up Otto's head. His eyelids were turning blue. And he was trying to gasp for air, and his hands were shaking.
"Otto! Speak to me!", Werner said.
"SPEAK TO ME!", Werner said. Otto reached into his pocket, and pulled out a sheet of paper, stained in blood. Werner grabbed it, and reached for his medical supplies. But by the time he could get them, Otto went limp, and died.
Werner began feeling nauseated, and he fainted.
When Werner woke up, he was not at the frontline. But instead, back at Gumrak Station. He was in a bed. He could hear a doctor's voice,"Elizabeth,Elizabeth, holen Sie sich die Pillen für Patienten 1103."
A young girl's voice responded,"Jawohl, Doctor." A young woman walked into the room. She was a blue-eyed brunette dressed in a medical outfit her hair covered by a medical hat. She put a glass bottle filled with pills down on the table next to Werner that had scalpels. "Have you had nightmares?", the nurse asked.
Werner nodded. "One word stook out to me...", he said,"Mradneniemeisnehmen". "Huh?", the nurse asked. Werner sat up. "The Russian ghoul wants me to eat the entrails of the dead."
She laughed. "You're joking right? What you said was jibberish!", she continued laughing. "No. it's not.", Werner flipped over a piece of paper. On the top was written "Mrad•neniem•eis•nehmen" and below it,"Nehmen sie meinem Darm."
Take my intestine. The nurse was properly horrified. "What...have you gone through..?", she asked. "My friends...are all dead. My company is obliterated. And we've only been fighting for 12 days.", Werner's eyes were deadly serious. The nurse teared up, nodded, and walked out of the room.
Werner put his head down on his pillow. The next day, he was called back to the front.
"Patient 1103?", an officer's voice said at Werner's door. "Uniform, Hauptmann. You're going to the front"
"Is 7th Kompanie still active?", Werner asked. "No.", the officer responded. "Only three of you remain."
Werner became angry. "We're all NCOs! My Platoon is not fighting until the last Russian digs himself from the dirt and runs to America!", Werner shouted. A silence followed. "I can't guarantee anything. But...I can try. You're needed at the front."
Werner breathed,"Very well.", and he got his uniform on. He opened the door. "What is the objective?", he asked. "To clear an apartment block out. The Russians have heavy defenses set up there. On the bright side, once this apartment block falls, we will control the entirety of Stalingrad."
Werner raised an eyebrow,"I'm not sure about that, fellow Hauptmann. Stalin's executive orders hold rather a bit of weight in the Red Army."
"They'll all be dead, then.", the Captain said,"Yesterday, the Mamayev Kurgan fell to the 16th. Most of it's fortifications were destroyed."
Werner stopped walking and turned around,"That would make this city the spot of the second Verdun. I have to say...it's doubtful that any of us will survive this."
"You'd abandon your post if there was a likely chance you'd be killed?"
"Haha, no", Werner said, as they entered the Main Terminal and sat down on a bench. "But, if I were the last one left standing against a thousand Russians, letting my child grow up with a father would be more important than the fate an industrial city."
The other Hauptmann hesitated. In that moment, the other Hauptmann's features as Baltic became more noticeable...or where they Jewish features? Either way, it appeared as if Werner had struck a sore topic with the other man. "I would relate in that situation. What is your kid's name, Hauptmann?", he asked
"Wilhardt II. We named him after his late uncle.", Werner sat down again, pained by the memory of the letter sent to him by the German High Command.
"What...happened?", the other Hauptmann asked. "My kid is named after my younger brother. He died on the final day of the Battle of Alam El Halfa."
"Unimaginable.", the man said with a curious accent. "A family sent into war. To be treated like this."
"It seems...familiar to you, who are you, Hauptmann?", Werner said. "I'm a Jewish soldier."
"Not important. Your name.", Werner said, and to prove his point, pulled out a cigarette and started smoking. "Alphonse Oldenstein.", the other Hauptmann said, and as Werner turned to him. "Hauptmann Oldenstein. God fucking damn me that I don't kill you right here. But..it maybe the last kill I score. And that...", Werner smiled. "Is truly terrifying."
Alphonse laughed.
