While trench fighting in Equestria had begun, the Germaneans had marched hundreds of miles into the Hooviet Union. The Hooviets were in constant retreat, as they were pushed back by determined Germanean troops. The Hooviets soon took on a strategy of scorched earth, burning crops and farmlands as they retreated. The Germaneans responded by hauling in millions of tons of supplies, enough to last five years. As the advance continued, the Germaneans found themselves at the last line of defense before Horsescow: Stalliongrad.

Stalliongrad was important for several reasons. The capture of Stalliongrad would give the Germaneans a clear path to Horsescow, the capital of the Hooviet Union. Furthermore, it would give the Germaneans control over surrounding fields and oil fields. The Hooviets did not have time to burn the former, and were blissfully unaware of the latter. Not only that, but Stalliongrad was the economic and cultural capital of the Hooviet Union, and would cause severe backlash if captured. All of these reasons made it imperative that the Germaneans capture the city quickly.

Mitternacht Voraus stared from his tank towards Stalliongrad. It was a glorious city of shining buildings and lively action. Soon, he realized, much of it would be in ruins. Mitternacht stared, memorizing every detail of the city, so that he could remember it when it had fallen. After a while, he noticed friendly pegasi diving over the city. Screeching noises sounded, and explosions sounded, flashing like stars in the distance. He heard nearby artillery open fire on the Hooviet positions. The distant whistling was almost haunting. It would have been beautiful if it wasn’t for the screaming. Screams of terror, screams of death.

The pegasi had begun to strafe ground targets, diving downwards and hosing ponies with leg mounted machine guns. The staccato bursts were punctuated by explosions as the bombs continued to drop. Mitternacht sighed. The fuhrer had decreed that tanks were not to enter the city. He had stated that the rubble from the artillery would make tank warfare unviable. This was an infantryman’s war. The tanks would be hidden deep within Germanean territory, where the Hooviets would be unable to go. Over three and a half million Germanean soldiers would be deployed to take the city. It was overkill in the truest sense of the word. It was even rumored that fifty of the elite Eindringlingesturmbrigaden had been deployed to the city. Mitternacht didn’t give much credence to the rumors, but it would be interesting indeed if they were true.

Mitternacht pulled out his Karabiner 1253K and leapt from the tank hull with the rest of his crew. Like all Germanean soldiers, they could multitask. All Germanean soldiers were trained for multiple scenarios, giving them versatility that most nations lacked. While Mitternacht was technically a tank commander, he doubled as an infantry squad leader. Like all officers, he was a unicorn. A crew from another tank joined them to form a squad of crack infantry. Several more squads joined them, and they began the advance into the city. Mitternacht truly envied those who rode in the personnel carriers. They didn’t feel as tired as he did, he imagined.

They entered the city. Hundreds of spear wielding Hooviets charged them. The Germanean line opened fire upon the swarming enemy. Several were spun around as rifle rounds found them. Mitternacht pulled the trigger on his gun, magically ejecting the spent round, his horn flaring as he did so. His bullet punched through the eye of one of the Hooviet soldiers, and he toppled to the ground, blood slicking the earth where he fell. Germanean machine gunners set up at the intersections, hosing Hooviet conscripts with merciless fire, before they could come into range. As a nation set up by the working class, the Hooviet Union consisted mostly of earthponies, this meant of course, that the Germaneans would not have to worry about ranged fire coming from Hooviet positions. Spears did pitiful damage to tanks and guns. They had, however an advantage of numbers. They fought a war of attrition, burning everything that could have been of value, and swarming Germanean positions with zealous abandon. They intended to drown them in a tide of flesh.

More machinegun fire sounded. Limbs were amputated by the sheer weight of ammunition expounded, and blood spurted in weird patterns against walls and the ground. Shells screamed overhead, and Mitternaucht saw a group of Hooviet soldiers blown apart by a mortar. The screamed as their organs were blown out, and Mitternaucht saw one beheaded by a stray piece of shrapnel. Buildings collapsed all around, crushing those unwary. Mitternaucht saw a burning soldier running from the inferno of a destroyed building. The soldier screamed as his skin boiled off. Mitternaucht looked away.

By the end of the day, half off the city was under Germanean control. Sporadic gunfire sounded as small skirmishes broke out between the opposing forces. Hooviet units had begun to ford Holga River, which ran through the middle of the city. They were beaten back constantly by Germanean artillery and pegasi units. The Germaneans began to bring up amphibian units, transports that could go on land and water. These amphibians would engage Hooviet ships, hosing them down with merciless fire. Screams could be heard constantly, and the river turned red with blood for several weeks.

Ruhig Todesfall crept through the streets of Stalliongrad with the rest of his Eindringlingesturmbrigaden squad. They were fully cloaked by their magic. Germanean intelligence had found that Hooviet high command had set up its base in one of the grain mills that dotted Stalliongrad. The Eindringlingesturmbrigaden unit had been dispatched to terminate them. Ruhig probed his psychic connection with his squad mates. Good. They were all in position. Two guards were stationed in front of the mill. That was a dead giveaway.

Ruhig mentally gave the command. Two jets of blood suddenly appeared, as the guards throats were opened. If Ruhig hadn’t known that his squad mates were cloaked, it would have seemed miraculous. One moment, the guards were alive, the next, they were dead. He crept up to the window. He heard the sounds of merriment inside. He stared in. The uniforms certainly did designate them as general staff. He nodded.

“Go loud.” He thought to his squad.

The door was kicked in, the sound jarring all of the officers into silence. Grenades were hurled into the room from cover. The officers stared at the potato-masher shaped explosives with mute interest. They had never seen them before. These were not combat officers. There was an explosion, and shrapnel embedded itself all over the room. He heard screaming inside of the room as a wall was blown apart by the force of the blast. Now was the time!

“FOR THE FATHERLAND!” Ruhig screamed.

“FOR THE FUHRER!” His squad returned.

They swept into the room, their silenced submachine guns belching fire. Everything in the room was already dead. They hosed it down anyway, shredding corpses until there was no doubt that they were dead. They continued up the stairs, hosing down the rooms that they passed, opening doors to check for casualties. Blood painted the wood colored walls, some of it even covered the roof boards of the mill, so powerful the attack had been. Bodies lay strewn all over the building, and limbs had been hurled into odd locations. Several of the officers had been disemboweled by shrapnel. Explosives were planted all over the building.

Ruhig and his squad walked away, as the sun began to rise in the sky. Behind them, there was nothing to suggest that the mill had ever existed, save wood chips and splinters. A giant crater was in the earth, showing simply that something had detonated in that area. In a few minutes, Ruhig and his squad had beheaded the Stalliongrad garrison.

The Hooviet army, now without leadership, degenerated into chaos. Thousands of soldiers deserted, having received no new directives. In a few days, the last resistance in Stalliongrad collapsed. The city came fully under Germanean control. Horsescow now came fully into the sights of the Germanean army. Victory was theirs.

Dieter smiled with cold satisfaction as he crossed yet another hostile strongpoint from the map. He had expected it in some ways to play out like Stalingrad had. He thought it would result in disaster. It had not. Dieter was satisfied. The last of the resistance against the First Reich was once again weakened. The world would be his. He would finally bring peace. Peace through superior fire power.

Author's Note

Thanks to Nuggetmanu2 for proofreading and ideas. Thanks to readers for support. Please feel free to comment.