62w, 3dUpdate 2 comments · 104 views
67w, 5dChp 15 fixed and with some added stuff. 0 comments · 34 views
69w, 5dUpdate 0 comments · 27 views
78w, 2dSad News 2 comments · 40 views
79w, 6hTagging Game of Doom 10 comments · 52 views
82w, 2dUpdate on Operation: Iron Hoof 0 comments · 41 views
87w, 2dOperation Iron Hoof 0 comments · 24 views
August 1942 Metz, France
The office was nice but still not what Robert liked. He’d much rather be on the front leading or at least be near it. But instead he was stuck in Metz attempting to make POWs talk. True, he had wanted to be an interrogator but it wasn’t all he had hoped for.
“Really, yet another loss in Africa at this rate we will be kicked out within a year. Those damn so-called allies in the East decided to get the Americans into it; bright idea Hirohito.” Robert said as he glanced down upon a newspaper on top of three new POWs’ folders. As he walked through the halls he noticed a lack of people but decided it was just a good day for his shoulder. He went to his office door and walked to his door and got out his key as he balanced the paperwork in his other hand.
“Leutnant Johansson you have arrived! You have an urgent message from Berlin!” yelled his secretary who had just returned from the bathroom.
“What!?” he yelled back accidently spilling his papers onto the desk where his coffee laid. “Dammit Hilda, didn’t I say not to yell from behind me!” the now enraged officer said as he attempted to save the files from the now forming puddle of coffee.
“Sorry sir, the letter is in on your desk. I’ll clean up the mess sir. Oh and heil Hitler!” she stated as she abruptly rose her right hand to her ear.
“Heil Hitler! Now get back to whatever you were doing after you finish cleaning. Also remember, you don’t need to formally salute every blessed time I walk into the foyer. Alright?” said Robert as he now grabbed his folders, or at least what was left of them, and went into his large room. His desk was flanked by two banners with a picture of Hitler above his chair. On either wall were large wall sized book cases filled with enormous amounts of books along with trinkets.
“Oh joy, the Fuhrer has moved again.” he said while rolling his eyes. “Let’s see what’s on my desk. Ok the typical note from the Nazis telling me I can’t hang my Hitler picture somewhere else since it isn’t huge. Yet another officer get-together at the Château, they never run out of time to party do they.” he said while he tossed notes and an invitation into the garbage bin to his right. “All they want is to have me go and say their awesome to the ladies.” Robert said as he laughed a bit and looked at his Iron Cross on his coat. Then adjusting his Knight’s Cross (around the neck) he sat down to see the remaining mail. “Hmm typical orders from assorted officers nothing new there. Oh here it is, from HQ in Berlin. I hope they finally accepted my request to be moved to Greece.” gleefully Robert said as he grabbed his letter opener and tore open the letter before his face turned to stone. He began reading in horror:
Dear Leutnant Robert Johansson,
Your Mother and Father were found dead today in their Hamburg residence after a recent bombing raid. We are very sorry for your loss.
My sincerest regrets,
General Von Traust
After reading the letter Robert’s sad induced anger caused him to grab the Hitler bust that was on his table and toss it across the room nailing a book on one of the shelves. The book then fell hitting the record player below turning on the “The Ride of the Valkyries” and spilling contents of the book onto the floor. With that he marched out the door not even noticing his secretary saying something. Then he just left the building and started to walk aimlessly around the city attempting to tie up his emotions inside him. For no good officer shows emotion as his now late father always told him.
After he had walked awhile he came across a bread stand being run by a local middle aged French man. Robert felt a bit hungry from his long walk and decided to get in line behind a young boy about the age ten. The Frenchman took the currency the little boy handed him and in return the boy got three rolls and then thanked the man. The boy then turned and apologized in French for taking so much time to Robert. Robert patted the boys head in forgiveness not knowing exactly what he had said and the boy then began heading down the road.
“I would like to buy a loaf a bread sir? How much will that be?” Robert asked the older French gentleman now working the counter as presumably the son went back inside to make more bread. As Robert opened his wallet he heard some yelling from down the street and decided to check it out. “I’ll be right back.” said Robert as he jogged down the road to the source of the noise.
As he approached the turn he saw three SS soldiers huddled around the same little boy from the bread stand. The boy began to cry as one of the soldiers started to eat a roll. Robert dashed off to stop this nonsense but as he ran to aid the boy being mugged; the boy attempted to run off with at least one roll. Then Robert stopped dead in his tracks as he stood in utter shock while screams of women could be heard along with the slamming of doors. Just thirty feet from the SS men laid the young boy now attempting to crawl through a pool of blood.
Robert yelled, “Hold your fire!” but the SS men didn’t listen and fired a second shot which ended the poor boy’s life. “You bastards! What in God’s name did that boy do to deserve to be shot!” yelled the Leutnant as he now again began moving to the SS soldier with now smug looks.
“Oh look, the Wehrmacht sent a limping man to scold us.” jeered the one SS soldier quietly to the others causing brief laughter until Robert came up to them.
“Sir, that boy was attempting to steal our rolls and we yelled for him to halt but he didn’t stop.” said another SS soldier as his friends nodded intently.
“We all know that’s a lie soldiers. You shot him for no reason!” yelled the Leutnant. “I watched the boy buy the rolls just two minutes ago and you must of yelled halt to you imaginary friends since I never heard it!” the now fuming man raged.
“Haven’t you ever read about a soldier’s right to seize food when needed sir?” commented the third SS soldier.
“Yes I have you three, and you three are definitely in need of food since the SS are being housed in a former hotel and you there have a sauce stain on your uniform!” yelled Robert as he pointed to the stain.
“Why are you so angry, he was just a Frenchman……” commented one of the three.
“He was nowhere near being a combatant and you had no reason to say otherwise! Plus what is that supposed to mean? He was still a human! He even was much more polite with me than any SS soldier I have ever met! You three are to come with me immediately, I am reporting you to your superiors.” he yelled as he grabbed one of the SS men’s uniforms and began to push him forward.
“That’s all the books we have Twilight; I can’t magically make one appear…… burp…….” the small dragon said as suddenly green dust appeared with a book and note. “It’s not like Rarity will just pop-up and says she loves me!” said the excited dragon as he looked all over for the white pony to magically appear.
“Nice try Spike, but that isn’t going to happen.” Twilight said with a giggle.
“Awe….” Spike then sighed in defeat. “Let’s see what the Princess had to say…” said the now saddened baby dragon.
Dear my faithful student Twilight Sparkle,
I apologize for the late reply as there was an infestation in Stalliongrad of those cute bugs again. I found a book that may help you in your quest to find what that strange object is.
Your Princess and Teacher Celestia
“If the princess sent it then it must be good!” said the now gleeful Twilight Sparkle as she hopped around Spike.
“Aah Twilight, this book is an old military experiments book…” Spike said immediately bringing Twilight to halt midflight and back to earth.
“Oh ok then.” the now slightly disappoint purple pony said as she walked up over to her reading podium with the book held by a purple aura.
“Let’s see what the Princess sent me Spike.” Twilight said as she began flipping through the pages.
This notebook is a compiled resource of all the experiments my team and I commenced between May and October of 1874. All the weapons are in the directory page after this.
After scanning the directory she found what the small object might belong to. This gun, they called it, could be used by ponies in battle with an effective range of 500m. But as she continued on she found out that the smaller guns were given up on due to their inability to pierce magical shields and were far too difficult for a hoof to reload. She skimmed further only to find that the bullets were similar but not close enough.
“I guess that’s how Pinkie got her party cannon… but it still left me with more questions than answers. What could possibly put at least twenty bullets into the Manticore within a few seconds. None of these guns have anything close to that.” Twilight said to herself as she wrote notes on what she had read and then decided to head to bed. Twilight had spent two weeks now scouring the libraries of both Ponyville and Canterlot hunting for the origins to the “bullet”.
September 1942 Dregen, German-held Austria
“The scouts report nothing out of the ordinary sir. The climate is mild and there are no humans to be found in the general vicinity to the portal.” reported the tall blonde haired SS scout as he saluted to Oberst Fransheim now occupying the now deceased doctor’s desk.
“Good, any more information on these so called intelligent horses?” inquired the Oberst as he spun a globe on his new desk.
“We believe they speak English sir. I have heard English in conversation when I have gotten closer to the red horse’s farm.” added the scout.
“Alright then, I expect you to report in bright and early tomorrow soldier.” replied the now grinning Oberst. “Miriam, get me a list of fluent English speaking officers.” yelled the officer as he leaned back in his chair. “Those horses won’t stand a chance against the weight of the Reich.” gloated the leaning officer. “But first we shall play them for their own layout of supply lines!” remembered the Oberst as he began to sit up again.