Interactive History VI: Warrior's Ambition
Prologue
14th of December, 1942.
The snow was falling like the petals off cherry flowers. Not as densely as to obscure the vision, but not as lightly as to make it nothing more than a white specked vision. It was falling just perfectly... Perfectly for one person that is.
Oleg lay on his stomach on an old table, obviously discarded long before the war, peering out a small hole in the wall, his trusty scoped Mosin-Nagant made everything seem much clearer, while at the same time so far away. He could see the Germans were talking as they entered the town. He didn't know either German or mouth reading, but after some time you learn the basic of communication, even in languages you can't hear or even understand. These Germans were obviously a bit anxious and they were warning each other about dangerous ambush sites and such.
Off to Oleg's right, by one of the bigger holes in the wall sat the spotter, a nice young lad of 17 years, not that Oleg himself was very old, only 20. But his spotter, Dimitri, was small in both height and stature and didn't look any more than 14 years old, he was but a boy, and shared the same enthusiasm to combat that boys often do.
Despite Dimitri's somewhat lacklustre appearance, he had hawk eyes, he could spot anything and everything, an he had a knack for knowing when the German would show up. Just like this occasion. It had been him that had said they should hide in the attic of the old communal storehouse. And he had chosen very well since the house was low enough to not be conspicuous, but high enough to offer a good view.
So here they were, and the Germans advancing through the town. Obviously something would happen sooner or later.
"Boy, are you seeing anything good?" Asked Oleg, stressing the first word. Dimitri, well used to the little pokes, calmly answered back, "Yes, I see about two companies of infantry, five halftracks, two StuGs and some trucks in the rear... Blind Man..." The last came with a half concealed snicker.
"Just give me a target, I can't make much out with the limited vision of my scope."
Dimitri grunted in acknowledgement and kept scanning the column.
"Hmm... I see a few Feldwebels and Leutnants, nothing important enough." Oleg was perhaps a sniper, but he would not risk getting exposed for a low rank. No, he had advanced too far with his 42 confirmed kills and numerous unconfirmed kills. His trusty Mosin-Nagant wasn't any run-of-the-mill rifle, it was in fact hand built by a master rifle smith, accurate out beyond his capability to even see the target. "Keep looking."
While Dimitri scanned for officers or highly decorated soldiers, those were important targets as well, Oleg caressed his rifle, whispering to it. "You won't fail me, I know it. I lay my life in your care Jelena." He had named his rifle Jelena in memory of the beautiful girl from his hometown that had introduced him to the wonders of the female charms. While there had been more later, especially after his storming success and subsequent decorations, she had retained a big part of his heart. He couldn't help but smile at the thought of that warm summer... Perhaps he would some day see her again, but his town was currently in German hands, far away.
"Oh I think I have found something Blind Man." Dimitri's words drew Oleg back to the real world. "What? Where?"
"Third halftrack, standing in the back. He only just popped up."
Oleg quickly found the halftrack and centred on the man standing in the back. "My dear... You have indeed found something worthy. Hauptmann, Infantry Assault Badge in bronze, two Tank Destruction Badges, Iron Cross and Close Combat Badge in Bronze... Damn, he is a hero!"
"Take him out..."
Oleg lined up for a heart shot. The German officer was moving about too much with his head to attempt a headshot. The wind had picked up a bit, blowing gusts now and then. A small winter storm was coming, a good opportunity to get away in. It was time to finish this. Oleg calculated the distance, corrected for both snow and wind, kissed Jelena gently on the side, then he took a deep breath, lined up for the heart (the Close Combat Badge made an excellent target), exhaled slowly and squeezed the trigger, at the last split second the officer looked up and a gust of wind blew in.
The rifle, as always, almost surprised him with the kick, the sharp bark it made faded away even before Oleg could register it. He quickly sighted back on his target. "What? You missed him?" Dimitri softly said, clearly puzzled. The German officer was still standing, but then he looked down on himself in bewilderment, then he collapsed on the rear deck on the halftrack. Oleg hissed a soft cheer at the vision. Meanwhile the German infantry ran for cover and into houses. Clearly searching for the unseen assailant. Orders could be heard, but there was no return fire.
"Boy, go to the stairs and keep an eye on the floor below, we might have to stay here for a little while." The storm was approaching, and in the dense snow they could escape, just as Oleg had a knack for, until then they would have to stay still to avoid detection.
Dimitri scurried over to the stairs silently and laid down, his PPSh next to him as well as two hand grenades. Useless if the Germans found them, since they would be trapped up there, but good for keeping the spirit up. Oleg on the other hand crawled next to one of he holes in the wall, big enough to let several men walk through, to observe the Germans in the streets. The scene below surprised him. He had looked away for a couple seconds only, yet not a single infantryman was to be found in the open or even in bad cover. These troops were good, but then again they were Panzer Grenadiers of some of the best Panzer Divisions the Germans had. At least Oleg had halted their advance for a short while, he had been told it was important they didn't reach Stalingrad again. He knew nothing of strategy, but that in itself was obvious enough.
Suddenly a StuG rolled back from the street going next to the storehouse. The commander, shielding himself with his hatch while still out in the open. Oleg could easily have taken him out, but two shots always mean detection. No he would stay his hand for the time being. The StuG rolled back and back and back until it reached the officer's half track, there the commander engaged someone in conversation. The logical conclusion would be that the StuG commander was taking over command, but something was off... The Germans usually didn't formally hand over command in combat situations, nor was there a need if the officer was dead.
Dread set in...
"Dimitri!!! Get up!" Oleg called out, the young boy looked at him in surprise as he began to rise up. Oleg looked back at the StuG, the gun pointing right at him. "Oh crap..." That was as far as he got before the gun flashed. In an instant the shell arrived and exploded on the back wall. Oleg was thrown out of the hole in the wall, and while in the air everything seemed alright... There was no sound, there was no pain, only a white sky. Then he hit the ground, he could feel bones crack, and something in his back snapped. At once he caughed up blood, and within a few seconds a couple Germans towered over him. He looked at them... They were no different from him really, young men fighting a war, but they had this look... A look of hate. One of them said something, but Oleg could hear nothing, then he pointed his weapon at the wounded Russian. One of the others grabbed his weapon and said something, and the first one reluctantly nodded.
What had happened to Dimitri? Well, as life slowly faded while the Germans watched, Oleg found he didn't care. He wasn't even afraid anymore, he wasn't in pain, but it was unpleasant to be looked at like that, and he was hurting inside now that he would never see Jelena again. But soon darkness overtook his eyes, and then there was nothing.
"Chief! Chief! Stay awake! If you surrender now you might as well lie down on a hand grenade." The medic had a concerned look as he spoke to Walter. Walter however wasn't troubled. He was smiling on the inside, if he died he would die a hero, if not he would get the Wound Badge in Silver. But it did worry him it would be a sniper's bullet that took him down. Next to him on the rear deck of the half track, was the radio operator. He was calling HQ for new instructions. "Dragon's Den, Dragonling 1, Hauptmann Schleizinger has been wounded. No clear succession of command, what are your instructions?"
"Dragonling 1, Dragon's Den, don't use names for Christ's sake! Whelp 3 assumes command. Keep on schedule, and bring back the Hauptmann."
"Understood."
Oberleutnant Weser, Whelp 3, came into Walter's vision and spoke to him. "We got him... He was right where you said he would be. Here I think you should have this." He said and showed a scraped but fine rifle with a scope. "It is the rifle that nearly killed you." Weser said with a laugh. "And now you are off for some nice relaxing time at a hospital with beautiful nurses all around. Lucky prick!" Even the concerned medic couldn't help but give a little grunt of amusement.
Within a few minutes Walter's situation was stabilized enough to move him with a truck to the rear. He would see no further action during the relief effort to Stalingrad. He had suffered a complicated wound to his left lung, just off the heart. The heart itself had just managed to avoid damage, but the lung would require time and care to heal. So Walter von Schleizinger, hauptmann of the Wehrmacht was shipped home to Germany...
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Originally Posted by Louis VI the Fat
- for "On this day in History"
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