been conscripted.
“A few of those girls are quite pretty, Herr Leutnant , ” Loeb muttered warningly, as they wanted towards the edge of the town. “Better keep an eye on the men.”
“Do so,” Kurt ordered. Loeb was right. Two of the girls were pretty enough to turn heads anywhere, he had to admit, which could cause problems until they were shipped west to a foster family. The remainder might not be so pretty, but soldiers who hadn't had leave for far too long developed new standards of beauty. “We don’t want any incidents.”
He surveyed the edge of the town, peering into the distance towards Germany East. It was ideal panzer country; rolling fields, very little in the way of natural obstacles and a reasonably well-maintained road heading east. There were a handful of hedges and ditches, but he doubted they would cause any problems to a modern tank. A Panther would crush the hedges beneath its treads and roll over the ditches as if they weren't there. Hell, they could just charge into the town and keep going. It was unlikely any of the buildings were tough enough to stop a tank.
“We’ll need to be ready to fall back,” he said. A fluid defence was their only hope, according to Field Marshal Voss. He hadn't bothered to ask Kurt’s opinion, naturally, but Kurt couldn't disagree with his ultimate superior. “Get off a couple of shots, then fall back before they get the range and start pounding us.”
“I’ll have antitank missiles placed in the nearest houses,” Loeb stated. He paused. “And we’ll mine the fields leading up to the town. It should give them a few nasty moments.”
“One would hope so,” Kurt agreed.
He had his doubts. The insurgents who menaced Germany East couldn't stand up to the SS in pitched battles, if they were foolish enough to try. Instead, they fought from the shadows; they sniped at isolated Germans, hurled the occasional mortar shell into German settlements and mined roads the Germans needed to move supplies from place to place. None of their attacks were particularly significant, individually, but collectively they represented a major drain on Germany’s manpower. And God help any German soldier unlucky enough to be captured by the insurgents. Kurt had heard enough horror stories to know that he never wanted to go there.
And the SS knows precisely how to deal with minefields , he thought, darkly. The only real question is just how far they’re prepared to go to intimidate good Germans .
It was a bitter thought. He’d been raised to believe that the SS existed to protect Germans - and indeed, many of the SS Stormtroopers he’d met had been good guys. Konrad had certainly been a very good guy, even though - as Gudrun’s boyfriend - Kurt had been obliged to detest him on sight. He certainly hadn't deserved his fate, let alone being abandoned by his own superiors and left to rot. But his superiors? How far were they prepared to go to keep their power? They’d already slaughtered countless Untermenschen , he knew, but were they prepared to slaughter vast numbers of Germans ?
Probably , he thought, as they worked their way through the town. They think that we’re traitors .
“Just gives us reason to fight,” he muttered.
Loeb glanced at him. “ Herr Leutnant? ”
“It doesn't matter,” Kurt said. He heard the buses entering the town and allowed himself a moment of relief. “Let’s go.”
He sucked in his breath as he walked back to the square and saw the older woman - the same older woman - arguing with one of the drivers. She had four large bags beside her, the smallest easily five times as large as the knapsack Kurt had been issued when he’d reported for basic training. He found it hard to understand how she’d packed them so quickly, let alone carried them to the square. Her husband didn't look strong enough to have
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley