by Brian Parker
Gloria dug through her case again while the commander argued her points. She didn’t even try to listen. They were the same points she’d argued as a new captain, designated to work as a historian for the rest of her career. The truth was simply too hard to swallow for most people without hard proof.
She tossed an original Kodak VELOX paper photograph onto the table. “That’s from the 1959 Deep Freeze expedition. Yes, it’s original, you can tell by the Department of the Navy stamp in the bottom corner.”
The photograph showed several soldiers, bundled up against the cold wearing gas masks, clustered around a large, four-barreled weapon of some kind. It was vaguely similar to the WWII flak guns that Gloria was accustomed to, but the barrels were flat, not round, and the metal was white, not black or grey like most gun metals. Smaller hand-held weapons and rifles were lined up on the ground by type on either side of the larger weapon.
“Is that…?” Bryan trailed off and picked up the photograph to get a better look. “That looks similar to our railgun prototypes, except what we have are giant compared to that thing.”
“Reverse engineering,” Gloria replied. “This picture was taken at the facility in Dronning Maud Land that we destroyed with nuclear weapons. Officially, the Nazi presence in the Antarctica was eliminated and we stopped searching for them. But we never found—”
“The airfields,” James interrupted. “Where are the airfields? What about the UFOs that the original expedition fought against?”
She smiled at the analyst. “Exactly. I think there was a second base, possibly even larger since we’re still missing all those soldiers. Not to mention, where were the women who’d given birth to all those children? Surely they didn’t think a force of a hundred and sixty thousand would be able to do much.”
“And now they’ve come back.”
“Yes, James. Now they’re back. I need to speak to your boss. Will you vouch for me?”
She could see the emotions cross his face and even the commander looked as if he was starting to believe what she presented. “I don’t know,” James replied. “Colonel Carpenter is a hard man to convince.”
“Then let me do the talking. All I need is an audience with the man.”
“Alright. I guess… I guess this is a lead we can’t ignore.”
SEVEN
30 December 1966
Argus Base, East Antarctica
Generalfeldmarschall Claus Mueller examined the troops under his command. His soldiers stood in perfect formation, stretching as far as he could see across the Grand Cavern. He stood on a platform so they could see him as well.
At the moment, he had 263,291 troops at his disposal. That number consisted of the remaining soldiers of the Third Reich, who’d made the transatlantic crossing, and the second and third generations of the Fourth Reich, bred and born underground.
Not enough. That would never be enough. The Americans, worse, the Soviets, would smash that small number without much thought. He needed five times that many soldiers, at least, to attempt an attack. But, there were problems with amassing that number. The field marshal sneered. In reality their problems were threefold and every one of them dealt with the capacities of Argus Base.
Argus was bursting at the seams. It was originally built as the airbase and breeding facility with the capacity to hold two hundred thousand men and around a hundred thousand breeding stock, plus the nurseries and dormitories for the children. The Neuschwabenland Base was supposed to hold the bulk of the soldiers for training and weapons manufacturing.
The Americans destroyed the primary site and captured most of the advanced infantry weapons—along with all the soldiers who weren’t guarding Argus or part of the Luftwaffe. Most of the experienced soldiers who’d been born in Germany and the entire first generation of the Fourth Reich, who’d moved to the facility to begin training only months before the nuclear detonations, were dead. Now, Argus Base held both the Luftwaffe and the Heer, the breeding stock, the scientists, and the manufacturing. His engineers had made thousands of the machines of war and there was nowhere to put them due to the overflow of people.
The next problem was food. The farms operated at maximum capacity, no longer producing enough food to sustain everyone. There was already talk of illegal trade amongst the population. Once the first generation of breeding stock began to have their own children, they would be out of options to feed his people. He would need to choose whether they fed the children or the adults, the engineers or the scientists, the breeding stock or the soldiers—none of those options were feasible as all played an important part in the building of the Fourth Reich.
Finally, the miners had filled the base with metal ores waiting to be transformed into weapons and flying discs. They’d dug deep, too deep to heat the new chambers they’d opened effectively. The newer spaces in Argus could be used for storage, but not for living quarters.
After today, that would change. The capacity problem would ease. The Reich’s scientists had finally made a breakthrough and the tests were conclusive. Today was the day that the Fourth Reich would become a reality. They just needed to wait for revenge a little while longer.
Generalfeldmarschall Mueller stepped in front of the microphone to address his men. He waited for the chants of adulation to die down, smiling. Twenty years ago, he’d been a lowly corporal, burning the bodies of a Jew and an army conscript in one of the greatest acts of subterfuge in history. They’d tricked the world into believing that Adolf Hitler and his new wife committed suicide side by side. Today, Claus was the most powerful man in the Nazi Army.
“Wehrmacht!” he shouted. “Stand at ease. There is no sense in you all remaining rigidly at attention while we talk. I have found that the soldier’s mind wanders when you are forced to stand at attention for long periods of time. I am pleased with the reports from the 938th Training Brigade. Our second and third generations are now fully trained and the fourth and fifth generations are progressing splendidly. Our strength grows every day!”
The cheering erupted once more. The youth had been indoctrinated from the moment of birth that their sole purpose in life was to fight for the Reich. Mueller found it easy to manipulate their minds in the controlled environment of Argus Base without the distractions of the outside world.
“The Luftwaffe now has two thousand flying discs, fully operational, in storage, prepared to attack. The Panzer Corps has one thousand hovertanks, also in storage, and we continue to manufacture projectiles for the magnetic weapons. Our army has the supplies. We only lack the forces to use them.
“Last week, we took the first step in ensuring the longevity of the Wehrmacht. You may have noticed the feelings of power, of vitality, coursing through your veins.” He laughed and continued, “I know the breeding stock noticed your manliness. You are animals! My army of magnificent animals!”
The men cheered and screamed as if they were animals. The regenerative serum had that effect on them. It boosted their testosterone by nearly four hundred percent. They were barely contained, only the threat of severe punishment kept them in line. He’d allowed them to rut freely amongst the stock in their off duty hours, ensuring that the next generation would be the progeny of this one.
“We prepare every day to avenge our fathers and mothers, murdered at the hands of the Americans in the Fatherland. I would bet my life on any one of you against ten American soldiers. Unfortunately, at our current strength, we face sixty-to-one odds. You’re all very good, but this is too much, even for you.”
The men shouted, “No!” in unison. They truly thought they could defeat the Americans, even with their small numbers.
“Yes,” the field marshal shouted back. “We must make way for the next generation. You know that Argus cannot support our current strength, which is nowhere near enough. That is why we must do this today. I will go with you into that long sleep. Once the numbers are in our favor, we will reawaken and go forth!”
The cheering of the men was deafening and Mueller saluted the m
en before sitting in a chair. Cameramen circled him, broadcasting their images to the large projector screens around the room. The field marshal waved into the camera and smiled as medical technicians fitted a mask over his nose and mouth.
He immediately began to get lightheaded. The aerosolized drugs were already taking effect, mingling with the regeneration serum the same technicians had administered to him the day before. Mueller could feel the two interacting, one fighting to send his body into a deep sleep before being frozen, while the other worked to keep his organs working and his muscles intact.
This was the future. This was how the Fourth Reich would rise given the limited resources they possessed in the frozen land. Only the soldiers from the training brigade would remain unfrozen to train future generations of the Wehrmacht. Once those men and women were trained, they would be put into cryogenic hibernation in the lower chambers and the next generation would move up from the breeding grounds to the training grounds. It would take time, but he wouldn’t know that any had passed.
Field Marshal Mueller felt his heart flutter and for a brief, panicked moment, it stopped. Is that supposed to happen? he asked himself in alarm. He turned wildly in his chair to see the smiling face of the Aryan, the grin he’d affected seemed more sinister than pleased. Has that alien bastard betrayed me?
*****
16 May 2025
Fort Stewart, Georgia
The captain examined his notes for a brief moment as he paused. He’d kept his change of command speech plain so far, but his experiences wouldn’t let him leave it at that. Gabe Murdock took a deep breath before reading the paragraph that he knew would be controversial.
“Finally, to the soldiers, noncommissioned officers and officers of Bravo Company, Three-Seven Infantry, I say to you that we will train hard in preparation for the upcoming fight. It’s been more than five years since the attack in Florida. I was an ROTC cadet on the beach that day. I saw the Grey Men. They showed no mercy and neither shall we.”
Gabe glanced up from his speech. “Berserkers! Let’s get ready to kill some Nazi assholes!”
The men cheered his statement as he marched to his position in front of the company first sergeant. The man saluted him and said, “Damn fine speech, sir. I can already tell that you’re gonna be a handful.”
Gabe dropped his salute and then First Sergeant Thomas dropped his before executing a right face and walking quickly around to the back of the formation. The new company commander took one step forward, and then executed a flawless about face to turn toward the small crowd.
Lieutenant Colonel Calhoun was already standing on his mark.
“Sir, this concludes today’s change of command ceremony,” Gabe stated as he saluted.
“Commander, take charge of your company,” Colonel Calhoun replied, returning the salute.
Gabe waited until his new boss dropped the salute to drop his arm. He watched the battalion commander until he’d exited the field and then completed another about face movement.
“At ease, Berserkers,” Gabe ordered. “Actually…fall out. Bring it on in, around me.”
The soldiers complied, breaking ranks and forming a semi-circle around him so they could hear what he had to say.
“For those of you that I haven’t met during the change of command inventories the past couple of weeks, my name if Captain Murdock. I’m from Missouri and I meant what I said about training to fight the Nazis. It’s an unpopular opinion about who they were, but I was on the beach when they attacked and killed sixty-three thousand Americans. They came from the sea and I was thrown into a concrete divider in an explosion. When I woke up, they were already leaving. I heard them talking to each other and saw their weapons and uniforms. They were Nazis. I don’t know how…”
He trailed off. Best not to let them think you’re a looney on day one, Gabe, he told himself. “Anyways, regardless of who they were, we’re going to train hard. We will be prepared to answer the call when the time comes.
“But first, we’re going to eat,” Gabe amended. “There’s food inside the battalion classroom. I want to speak with the NCOs and officers at 1130 in the company orderly room. E-4 and below, you are released after you eat. PT is zero-six-hundred Monday morning. We’re gonna go on a little run, so make sure you’re hydrated.”
Gabe grinned at the reactions of the enlisted men and had them reassemble in formation before calling the first sergeant up to take the company. He needed to hurry and get inside the classroom to host the reception. He was single, so Michelle, the wife of first platoon leader Jake Wilcox, had helped him set up and was acting as an interim host until he returned.
He thanked Michelle profusely for her help once he arrived. She’d been invaluable; he’d have to get the family a bottle of wine or something nice as a thank you for helping him out.
Within minutes of his arrival, the battalion commander and the battalion operations officer pulled him aside. They looked like they wanted to talk.
“Gabe, Major Hopkins tells me that you’ve already requested a change to the training schedule and want two rifle ranges for next week and scheduled three days of combatives in between,” Lieutenant Colonel Calhoun stated. “Then the following week, you plan on taking your company out to the MOUT site for urban operations training. Is that right? I don’t remember approving that training schedule when Captain Laporte submitted his six-week post-change of command order.”
“Yes, sir. Those are the initial changes. I’ll have more as I assess the needs of the company over the next few weeks.”
“Have you talked with your first sergeant yet? He’s going to be your sounding board, the man you’ll lean on to get the pulse of the company. I’m not prepared to authorize a change to the training schedule that requires overnights in the field. One of our responsibilities as officers is to ensure that our soldiers have predictability in their schedules. Unless you can convince me otherwise, their families need to know at least a month out when they’re going to the field. Some of them may have childcare issues or leave scheduled that they’ll cancel because they want to show you they’re team players. What’s your reasoning behind changing the training schedule?”
“Sir, I feel like we’re on the brink of an invasion. We need to be prepared to defend our shores. That’s why I chose to come to the 3rd Infantry Division. Here in Savannah, we’re positioned to respond to any attack in the southeast. I—”
“Wait a minute, Gabriel,” the colonel stopped him. “Is this about the Florida attack a few years ago?”
“Absolutely, sir. I saw the brutality of those men firsthand. We need to prepare our soldiers to be just as violent as our enemies, on a moment’s notice. We’ve got to be flexible and willing to think outside of the box.”
“I cut my teeth in Afghanistan, Iraq and Mali, son. I was the operations officer for the 1st Ranger Battalion when we were sent into the heart of Africa to defeat a private army financed by a Chinese lithium mining company. Our mission was to stop human rights violations without starting an international conflict with the Chinese. Don’t tell me about thinking outside the box.”
“That’s not what I meant, sir,” Gabe protested. “The Nazis were—”
“Stop that Nazi shit, Gabriel. I let it slide in your speech, but I don’t want to hear any more about it. We don’t know who attacked us, but I’ll tell you right now, it wasn’t the Nazis. My great-grandfather was in the 101st. He drank wine at the Eagles Nest in the mountains of Bavaria. They kicked those sick bastards’ asses and there’s nothing left of them except a bunch of documentary footage.”
The battalion commander paused for a moment to calm down and then said, “Denied. Berserker Company will follow through with the six-week training schedule established by the previous commander. That schedule allows you to properly integrate into the company and battalion battle rhythm.”
He placed a hand on Gabe’s shoulder. “The battalion is ready to respond to any attack, Captain Murdock. We’ve trained nonstop for the past f
ive years, ready to go if whoever attacked us ever shows their face again. But, we’ve got to be able to wind down and take care of our people also. Enjoy yourself. Celebrate your new command, and be prepared to hit the ground running come Monday morning.”
The commander walked away and Gabe watched him go.
“Well, that went about as good as can be expected,” Major Hopkins stated. “I told you that he was a stickler for protecting the training schedule.”
“Yeah, thank you for asking for me, sir.”
“Come see me next week. I’ll lay out the battalion’s annual training plan and you can pick dates for the events you want to schedule. You don’t have to deviate from your ideas or plans for how you want to run your company… You’ll just have to delay them a bit.”
“Thanks, sir,” Gabe replied. He’d wanted to come in strong and get his men focused on the fight, but Laporte had been a ticket-puncher. He didn’t care about getting the men prepared for war; he wanted to get his record stamped that he’d hit all the required gates for promotion. As a result, Berserker Company was conducting all of their annual administrative briefings for the next two weeks—something that the former commander had put off until after he left.
Whoo hoo, Gabe thought as he wandered over to the table to make a plate of food. More classes about suicide prevention and privately owned vehicle maintenance.
EIGHT
04 June 1982
Argus Base, East Antarctica
Frederick raced down the hallway toward the storage closet he and his friends had taken over as their clubhouse. Their lessons and drills were complete for the day and they had two precious hours to themselves before room checks. The Heer Henchmen used that time to gather and discuss what they’d do to the Americans once the Wehrmacht was finally released upon them.