by Len Gilbert
———
Craters and slivers of wood were strewn all over the forest. Vahn scanned through the white-barked trees for the enemy, but the only enemy he saw was already dead. He and the two humans, Poetschke and Wolff, continued toward the line of the woods. A chorus of clicks and clanks followed behind them in a mad dash to their final goal, Oxbane.
“I promoted this one for a reason, Wolff,” Poetschke grimaced as he spoke to his long-time comrade.
“Vahn killed three wolftaurs with nothing more than a spear and a hand-knife, and grenaded a nest of throwers. Nobody else in this Kompanie or the other two can boast what Vahn can.”
It was true that Vahn and the others had been through a lot. Yesterday their attack was routed, and the kompanie was turned back by a huge attack. They’d been on the run for almost a day, but then Werner Wolff, whose last name still confused many, and 150 other well-armed humans attacked head on out of nowhere. The humans’ weapons made an impact that was almost magical. Vahn used to have little respect for humans, but Poetschke’s humans were different. Vahn had doubted that wolves could ever stand against the invincible Grimeskins, but Master Sepp had shown them another way.
Even still, there were some things that Vahn didn’t understand.
“Um, Herr Sturbannfuehrer?”
“Yes,” Poetshcke replied.
“Forgive me if I ask, but why are you all fighting so hard?”
Poetshke raised an eyebrow and shrugged.
“It’s all we know. That’s all.”
“Sir. I’m sorry, I just don’t believe that,” Vahn shook his head.
“The Grimeakins gave you an offer for peace that would cost your race nothing. A hundred-year peace. You could have lived out your lives without being bothered. You’re risking your lives only for us, not for your country anymore. And I deserve to know why.”
Poetschke stopped marching and the whole convoy of troops stopped abruptly behind, some cursing as they bumped into each other. He set the nozzle of his flame thrower onto the ground and turned slowly to face Vahn and his query.
“…The Greenskins are an army of rapists. It’s either us or them. No treaty. No coexistence.” Poetschke picked the nozzle back up, winked and turned back around to continue their march.
“Come on,” Wolff patted Vahn on the shoulder. “We can explain more about this later. Our vengeance lies ahead.”
Wolff was right. Vahn looked down into a snow-covered golden valley, and saw the Greenskins’ camp before them. A field of cylindrical tents with pointy tops jutting heavenwards. Layers of fencing corralled the sprawling camp. A tower rose up from the entrance, an entrance that faced the east; the exact opposite of their imminent attack from the west.
“Should we wait for the Gra-nut-ver-furs to blast a hole in the fence?” Vahn asked.
“Oh no. It will be too late by then. We go right in through the gate. It will be your job to remove whoever is in the guard tower, Vahn. Wolff and I will take care of the tents.”
Vahn swallowed hard and picked five of his better wolves for the tower. Vahn would go with them. The remainder of his platoon would follow Poetshke. By now, the humans were all out of supply for their hand-cannons, and were all using the knives attached to them.
“It’s now or never,” Poetshke said. “The Greenskins are already pulling back to fortify this camp. I only hope they’re all too far behind to get here…”
Poetschke blew the whistle and they dashed out of the forests and into the fields. The camp was at least 30 paces away. Vahn swallowed hard, as he realized the monsters could see them coming. The whole Kompanie broke into a gallop.
“This is it,” he breathed out as they neared the high fence and its thick, wooden posts. They ran with heads down and arrows began flying at them from the tower.
“Agh!”
A human fellow next to him was gored through by an arrow and fell into the hardened ground. One of the wolves stopped to help the human, and Vahn barked out.
“Keep moving! We can’t help him here.”
The attack had already begun ahead of them. Two peach-colored monsters guarding the east gate had spotted the attack. The tall monstrosities went to work, smashing two wolves with their bare fists. The guards were unlike any Grimeskin Vahn had seen.
The wolves circled around one of the hulking beasts while one of the Leibstandarte jammed a bayonet into its side. An arrow screamed by and hit one of the humans nearest to Vahn, dropping yet another of them. Vahn and four other wolves attempted circling around the other monstrous guard. He released his fist again and killed another. Vahn leaped up, hooked his arm around the monster’s neck and tore into its throat with his own teeth. His mind blanked as he was slammed onto the ground with unstoppable force. Yet, when he looked up, he saw the other four wolves piling on and bringing the powerful guard down. Poetshke and his wolves were already scurrying past the gate and into the camp.
Vahn jumped to his paws and blew the whistle twice. Four wolves reported to him and they entered together.
“Down!” They ducked by a tent, then together sprinted to another tent for cover. A slender Greenskin with black eyes emerged from the tent with his hands up. He didn’t have a weapon. Vahn glared at the diplomat, but ignored him and continued on toward the tower until they were just one tent away.
“Go! Charge the stairwell!” He motioned.
The wolves ran forward and ducked under the tower for cover. Vahn could see arrows pouring out from the tower and onto the three Kompanies. Just as they got there, the stairwell detached and the guards threw it off the tower.
One of them groaned out, “what now?”
A fire started at a nearby tent.
That tower was so high up. They would either have to climb it or chop down the wooden stilts. And the guards would have time to kill many comrades.
“Sir! Sir I have one.”
“One what?”
“One left,” The wolf grinned, brandishing a ‘boomstick.’
Vahn hushed and looked over to him.
“Four paces out, understand?”
“Yes.”
The wolf sprung out of his cover, took out the lit boomstick and lobbed it into the tower just as he took an arrow to the heart and dropped. The four of them ducked for life as thunder ripped into the sky and debris rained down shortly thereafter.
“Got it.”
Vahn felt his head swimming after the concussions rocked through the air. Everything looked hazy. He blinked hard and his vision returned. The air was still hot with the dynamite’s firey powder. He slowly looked up to survey the damage. Poetshke was leading his pack of wolves on a rampage, setting ablaze tent after tent while his wolves slaughtered every diplomat, strategist and courier caught inside. Even the concubines were in danger of Flame Wielder’s conflagration.
“Come on!”
Vahn barked out and made for the tents, then pounced upon a beady-eyed Greenskin and shoved his lance clear through him. All around him the Greenskins were falling to spears and bayonets, and Poetshke’s vengeful fires were spreading everywhere. The air was only getting hotter, and breathing became difficult.
“Clear out!” Wolff shouted and blew his whistle. The whole unit bolted for the exit as flames danced above every tent. Hot embers landed in Vahn’s fur and singed through his skin.
“Ennnngh!” A feminine grunt slid out from one of the burning huts, and a firmly-shaped white-furred vixen emerged and fell to her knees. She was clad only in a sheer, baby-blue fabric and her body was adorned with jewelry. Vahn picked her up over his shoulder and sprinted out of the burning camp with this group. They all dropped to the ground as a snow-colored horse bolted out of its burning stable and past the exit.
“Get back here!” Poetschke shouted and then fell to his knees on the ground. “Come back here you coward…”
Vahn looked to the sprinting equine again as it ran off into the horizon. Even from this distance, he squinted and saw Oxbane’s silhouette atop the horse.
“Help…”
Vahn blew desperately into his whistle. One of his wolves and another human ran to Poetschke, lifted him to his boots and ran him out of the massive conflagration.
Vahn and the others ran alongside them. He bounded into wheat fields with the concubine still slung over his shoulder, protesting at the rough treatment. It was all over. Vahn wasn’t sure how many made it out, but it was done. He looked back to see his platoon following right behind him, as if they’d never lost sight.
TWEEEEEEEEEEEET!
Out of nowhere a whistle rang two times for combat readiness. In a moment everyone knew why he had done so. The ground began rumbling beneath all of them. Ratcheting sounds drew closer to the disorderly Kompanie. The Greenskins’ were coming back to ‘reinforce’ what they would soon find to be a charred camp.
“Get down!” Vahn yelled to his undersized platoon. He dropped the smooth vixen into the grass and then pressed himself against the soil.
“Stay put,” he growled at the shocked young woman, whose green eyes looked right into him nevertheless.
The enemy’s reinforcements were coming. Vahn picked up his field glass and saw a giant column of wooden and metal carts coming toward them.
“It’s rock bombers! Dig! Everyone dig now!” Wolff shouted just a few paces back.
The wolves began frantically trying to dig foxholes for themselves even though it was hopeless at this range. It would be far too late to get any cover.
Vahn knelt and stared at the contraptions. When he squinted he could see them closer. The operators of the wooden machines were felines with body armor and pointy hats. All of them had their hands on their head.
Then Vahn looked to the front and saw a human in gray and a black trench coat flowing in the wind. Though he was human, he looked unfamiliar. But right behind that man was Master Sepp! Even from a distance Vahn could see the triumphant grin upon Sepp’s face.
“It’s… It’s Master Sepp!”
All around, the Kompanie, both wolves and humans, were leaping out of the grass and running out to greet the other victorious comrades. Sepp was waving at them with both hands.
“They captured the rock-bombers! We’ve won, we’ve really won I can’t believe it!” Vahn yelled and grasped the confused young concubine by the shoulders.
Pure Again
“Hey! Heh-heh. There you are!”
Hans cut off the engine, then he and Tex rose from the sidecar. They were back at the camp, and Heinz Mertens stood there to greet them.
“Been waiting for you two! To give us the good news. Oh, she’ll be happy to see you, too. She’s recovered well.”
Hans beamed at the friendly mechanic, he picked up his helmet and the three of them made their way to the officer’s bunker.
“The doctor in?” Hans asked Mertens.
“No, no. Dr. Bruestle went to the front with the rest of them. It’s just myself, Postel and a few Wehrmacht stragglers that appeared yesterday. Peiper told us to stay and watch over Sarah.”
When Mertens opened the bunker door Sarah’s ears pricked up. She was sitting up on the cot, and when Hans came through the door she jumped up and clung to him.
Mertens chuckled. “That’s a happy ending for you, isn’t it?”
Hans kissed Sarah on the mouth before turning to the others.
“Now that I have my mate, Tex and I are going back to the front. Want to come with us?”
“We can’t. Have to make sure the stray wolves don’t take our food supplies. Standartenfuehrer’s orders. Ah, however…”
Mertens rummaged around in the back and unearthed several small containers of liquor and beer, then thrust the case into Hans’ arms.
“You bring that to the victory celebration for me. And make sure some goes to Sepp Dietrich and his wild animals.”
With Sarah in one hand and drinks in the other, Hans made for the door and Tex opened it for him.
“After you, Herr Hepner.”
“Why thank you, kind sir…”
Hans filed out the door and nearly bumped right into Generalmajor Postel, who was standing ramrod straight just outside. Late day sunlight reflected off the blackened skin around his eye. Tex suddenly looked like he wanted to disappear.
“Um, Herr Generalmajor, I sure hope there aren’t any hard feelings and I’m sorry about the other day,” Tex said.
Postel huffed.
“If it were up to me, both of you would be hanging from a rope. However, it isn’t up to me. You’ve both shown courage to beat an inhuman enemy, and that’s what matters most. Good day.”
Postel nodded to them and then stepped out of their way.
“’Good day?’” Tex asked as the three of them made their way to the sidecar, “what happened to ‘Heil Hitler?’ Generals don’t have to say that?”
“Well, I’m not really sure either…”
Hans placed the spirits on the floor of the sidecar, then hopped into the passenger bucket and motioned for Sarah to join him. She smiled and sat down on his lap. Tex sat on the motorcycle and planted his hands on the bars.
“’Bout time I get to drive this thing,” the Texan grinned and ignited the engine to a purr.
———
Hans watched the scenery and cuddled with his mate as they chugged through Wolven country. Every wolf they passed smiled and waved. Some jogged alongside them for awhile, and Tex was always eager to talk to them and exchange compliments and stories.
The camp’s blaring bonfires could be seen from a distance, and the pounding of drums could be heard from even further afield. As they neared camp, everyone had their eyes on the two humans and their machine. Tex parked right in the middle of the huts. One of the wolves came cautiously toward them.
“Is this Herr Hans? And the turtle-head?” He asked, a few of them giggling in the background.
“Yes, it is,” Hans answered, taking Sarah by the paw and helping her out of the sidecar.
“Nice to meet you. Are you hungry?”
“Yes sir, we sure are!” Tex blurted out.
“We just killed two deer and a wild boar. Lots of meat for all. Your friends Pipe-er and others are off over that way.”
“Is ‘Master Sepp’ here?”
“Master Sepp? He will be here later. He is on his way from freeing the Goldgrass towns and moving prisoners. Have some wild boar’s meat in the meantime, Mine Kam-y-rad! Heil Hit-luhr!”
A chorus of giggles followed the wolf’s last words. Sepp’s pack seemed very amused tonight, almost ecstatic. The Waffen-SS was in an altogether different mood. When Hans found Peiper, the Standartenfuehrer was sitting outside at a round table next to Poetschke and a few others Hans didn’t recognize. The orange-yellow flames of a nearby bonfire illuminated their solemn faces as they spoke with one another. Peiper raised his hand when he saw Hans.
“Gefreiter! Come join us for a moment,” Peiper smiled, or at least tried his best to.
Sarah, Tex and himself came over to the hardwood table, which itself looked like a relic of the Fatherland. They sat down next to Peiper, although his reunited lieutenants looked suspiciously at Tex.
“Herr Hepner, I hope, can be our guide to the outside world while we build something worthwhile for the future.”
“That is an interesting plan, sir.”
“Yes, my men tire of living in trenches and bunkers. Look over there, these wolves are drunk on victory. Wouldn’t you agree, Gefreiter?”
“I’m not so sure, sir. I think we might have really won this time.”
Jochen shook his head again.
“That may be, but an officer’s job is to watch over those who came here. After five years of war, we’ve lost far too many of our own to be jubilant like these wolves are. Tonight their homeland may be free, but ours is not.”
“But sir,” Hans retorted, “Uh, if I may say. It seems this world is our home now. Maybe that’s why we’re here. Maybe fate’s giving us a secon
d chance?”
Peiper put down his coffee cup and thought in silence for a moment.
“Maybe. If this is indeed our second chance, then we’ll have to make this our new home. When that job is complete, I’ll celebrate just as the wolves are doing tonight.”
Hans felt too intimidated to break out the alcohol with the Leibstandarte. They’d likely not be amused, so Hans excused himself, took Sarah by the paw and went back out to join what was quickly turning into revelry. Rune-painted wolves and German soldiers were talking and laughing freely. Tex found himself at home in the festive atmosphere, and was soon wildly banging drums and laughing with new friends. Hans even saw SS-men with their arms around friendly she wolves. Suddenly a roaring cheer blew in from the distance.
“Hey Master Sepp is coming! Everybody Achtung!” One of the wolves yelled out.
Indeed it was ‘Master Sepp.’ Against the waning sunset he rode in mounted on a white horse, leading a column of wolves in from the plains. Sepp was dressed differently this time. He had the same general’s uniform, but with longer, decorative furs draped over his shoulders and down his back. He had a spear in one hand and a reign in the other, and the wolves behind him cheered and raised their weapons in unison.
Soon the shouting spread to the camp, and Hans watched as the ‘Lightning Rune Tribe’ crowded around their savior. Sepp dismounted and offered a hand to the young wolfess riding just behind him. The young woman took his hand and hopped off with a smile, the blue marks on her thigh glowing brightly.
“Sepp is the Wolven King! And with Sepp we’ll rule the whole continent!”
That declaration got a wide round of cheers. Sepp looked about the crowd, and called out when he found Sarah and Hans.
“Young man, I’m not sure where you got those, but if there ever was a time to drink it is now!” Dietrich chortled and took the case off Hans.
“Um, even in front of the enlisted?” Hans asked.
“In all our lifetimes, moments like these haven’t come by very often. Someone! Bring me two horns!”
Within a moment two empty animal horns were in Sepp’s hands. Dietrich poured the beer in both and gave one to Hans, then poured one for himself and drank. The crowd gathered loosely around them and watched with curiosity. The difference between Dietrich and Peiper was day and night. Hans picked up the horn and gulped down the snow-cold brew with Sepp.