Author's Note

Note: I do not support anything the Germans did in World War 2. I myself am part German and feel shame because of it due to WWII. Please enjoy this story and message me if you have complaints that ant be addressed through comments.

Chapter 1: Eight Miles Left To Moscow

November 5th, 1941
Armee Gruppe Center

So close to the end. We just pushed past one of the last Russian defense belts around Moscow, thank god, and we’re only eight miles to the suburbs. It's been months of fast and easy progress and then Moscow just became the brick wall in our way, and we can't use a sledgehammer.

Reason we can't use a sledgehammer, the fucking weather. Last night the temperature dropped yet again, and our Panzers wouldn't start for two hours. Since we had bad weather, our planes can't launch either, which means no Stukas. No Stukas means no sledgehammer, no sledgehammer means no breakthrough, no breakthrough means having to suck it up and go through the slog of a slow advance.

The almighty and all knowing Fürher(who can go fuck himself)keeps demanding a fast and decisive breakthrough and capture of the Soviet capital. He doesn't know what we're going through right now, so he needs to shut his idiotic pie hole and let us do our job. I'm so cold.

So cold, why didn't we bring winter clothes? We should've known from the start that the Russians weren't just gonna fall over. After all the success in the west, we had started to believe the invincibility bullshit. What a stupid belief. Time to move out.

Fuck this war,
Max

*****
I finished my diary entry and groggily opened my tent. I was greeted with the usual; snow, ice, and biting cold. Shells were scattered everywhere in piles for the last push on the god forsaken city of Moscow. I was just a damn grunt who got drafted off the street and thrown to the Eastern Front.

Snow piled on the Panzers and trenches, some poor guys had froze to death last night. They won’t get to see what's going to happen in the next few years I guess, so that's a plus. I don't even want to imagine it.

I trudge my way to the field kitchen and see what's on the menu for today; steak, potatoes, and some chocolate. It's the same as always but the chocolate is new, must be the final push today. The chocolate ration didn't give me hope for my survival, as it was usually given before a battle not many would survive. I grab my tray and head for my friend Karl who is our division’s cooking officer and kitchen staff.

With a bit irritation at the man in front of me who was slow as all hell, I reach Karl.

“Well hello Karl, how's life been treating you these past few months?”

“Fuck this I want to go home, that's how.” He replies with a chuckle. He starts to scoop steak and potatoes onto my tray and hands me a chocolate bar. He doesn't even look up when our artillery starts rumbling in the distance. A dull CLUNKUNT sound reaches my ear as Karl gives me the last of my food.

I turn to him and say with no humor at all. “It's starting isn't it?”

“Fraid’ so Max. It's looks like you'll be fighting soon. Get back in one piece alright? I need my friend with me right now.”

“I'll do my damn best man.” I reply as we grip each other's right hand and hug the others left shoulder. I walk off with a determination to come out of this alive and be there for my friends and family.

*****
Rifle in hand I get in a half track with twelve other men from my squad who I don't know very well. Still, I hope they make it out alright. The half track starts rolling down the frozen iced over road along with the Panzers. The CLUNKUNT of the artillery gets louder and louder the more we go down the road. I grip my clothes to around me to stave off the morning cold, 10 AM and it's still below freezing.

The whistle of artillery fills my ears as we arrive on the front lines. Already I hear the screams of the dead and dying. One whistle is getting particularly close to my squad and the half track. “Incoming get the fuck out!” I jump out of the half track and dive into a trench, turning just in time to see the half track explode into twisted metal and flames.

An officer jumps down next to me and pats me on the shoulder to get my attention.

“You, man that 42 and watch for the Russians! They're going to charge soon so fire on their infantry, the anti tank guns will do the rest.”

Just like that he's gone and I'm left to man a machine gun nest. Checking the ammo belt and box, I load the MG 42 and cock it. Now I just wait, son of bitch this is going to be a tough day. Still no air support to be found.

Staring down the field I suddenly hear a massive roar as thousands of Russians pour out onto the field. I soon realize with horror that they're the charge I was told about. I take my aim and fire.

Ratatatat, 50 gone. Ratatatat, another 20 gone. Just as I'm about to fire again the road of the anti tank guns starts. High explosive shells impact the ground, impacting the ground and leaving behind massive craters, leaving blood and organs in their wake. I keep firing.

Ratatatat, more fall. Ratatatat, they just keep coming, they seem to have endless waves of men. As I'm about to fire again I realize I've run out of ammo and fumble to reload. Gun cocked and loaded I keep firing.

*****

An hour later and the Russians retreat. Beyond me is a field of blood, bodies, and entrails as far the eye can see. I sigh, lean back and light a cigarette to wait and rest. It's 1 in the afternoon and we haven't even made our push yet, more delays command tells us. Just as I get comfortable I hear a whistle above me.

“Fuck, artillery!” I scramble to get out of the trench just as the shell lands a few yards away, and I'm blown away into the field. Blackness coats my vision as I pass out.

I come to and check my watch. It's 2:30 in the afternoon. As I get up I notice the corpse next to me missing his bottom half, which nearly causes me to vomit. I stumble back to the trench but then stop, noticing something in it. In the trench is a violet creature lying seemingly dead in the snow covered ground.