//------------------------------//
// Vorbereitungen 
// Story: Krieger's Tale: Rise of the Germane Empire 
// by Stalin with Da Spoon 
//------------------------------//

The air had a light scent of gasoline as the smog-like exhaust of an Magirus A3000 cargo truck as it slowly drove along the stone roads of the town, it's wheels lightly bumping along the uneven stones and the crates loaded in the back lightly jostled and bounced. The two soldiers driving in the front were busy listening and humming along to the song playing on the radio, the melody polluting the air and flowing through the open windows. Everyone heard the music as the truck passed by, leaving ponies confused by the German lyrics and some soldiers letting out a short hum in tune.

"Aut der heide bluht ein kleines blumelein, und das heisst, Erika!"

Sergeant Klaus simply shook his head as the truck passed by, carrying crates full of supplies out to the field around the town where they would be used to build fortifications. He turned back to oversee the new pony recruits, still in the process of wearing out their newly issued Wehrmacht uniforms as they performed push-ups. He could see some of them were straining while others were excelling, with the more physically toned likely being builders or farm workers before enlisting. The stronger ones would do excellently with assisting in transporting heavier ordinance or equipment like machine guns and mortars, as well as fighting on the frontlines. The weak ones could help with logistics, operating radios, or maybe with proper training, drivers for the few armored cars they had at their disposal.

Still, the recruits had taken to the training and exercises like a fish to water after the first two days, their enthusiasm and willingness to fight helping to push them forward. Klaus admired their will and determination, knowing that when a solider loves whats behind him, he shall fight with great honor and efficiency. Or, judging by some of the recruits, she shall fight well. Klaus was surprised to see the women or 'mares' of the village willingly signing up for service, but considering what happened to them, they did not seem to mind fighting for their families, another quality Klaus admired about the people here.

Regardless, Klaus turned his attention to one of the recruits struggling to do even a single push up, a young stallion. "Private Bright Cloud, care to explain why have you not done even a single push-up?"

The Stallion saluted while on the ground before speaking in a strained tone as he tried to push himself up. "Sorry sir- I mean, Kommandant- I mean, Sergeant-"

"You may refer to me as Sergeant."

"S-sorry Sergeant, it's just that I've neveeeeeer..." He very nearly got himself all the way up, before collapsing to the ground. "Done any exercise. I just own a library, I like selling books."

"Hmmmm... Do you like reading as well?"

"Uh, yes Sergeant."

"Hmmm... Stand up, I may have a new task for you." The stallion nodded as he stood up and saluted. "Currently our troops constructing the trenches are in need of help managing where the supplies are being focused and diverted to. You may go and assist in supply coordination as well as operating the radio and helping with mechanical maintenance."

"Ummm, I know what a radio is, Sergeant, but I've never really used one."

"Consider this a learning experience, now move and report to the trench line, you are wasting daylight soldier!"

"Sir yes sir!" The Stallion saluted before waving down a passing truck of supplies, asking to hop in the back as the driver nodded, letting Bright Cloud clamber over the tailgate and inside with a groan of effort. The truck's engine then started back up as it continued along the road. Klaus then turned back to see a couple ponies were watching on and not doing their exercises. 

"He was an exception due to his skills being usable in a vital role, you will not be given the same opportunity, so do not slack! Even if you will not be fighting on the front lines, you must be fit! He will gain fitness in his mind, you must have fitness in your body! So come on, twenty more sit ups!"

The groans made Klaus grin. These ponies had it easy compared to his drill instructor. His biceps ached from the thought of it.





"Los! Los! Get the machine guns set up, without them we lack any form of suppression!" Krieger yelled out, carrying two ammo tins in his hands as he walked through the trenches and up onto a wooden machine gun nest as a pony and a human set a MG-42 into position, securing it to a bipod on the sandbags which lined the narrow firing slit. He set down the tins on the ground. "Make sure the barrel is clean and properly maintained, we do not wish for it to jam on us!"

"Yes Kommandant." The two soldiers said as they set to inspecting the machine gun while Krieger exited the nest and walked back into the trenches, making sure to carefully avoid stepping on the fingers of a pony carpenter currently installing wooden stairs leading into the underground medical area marked with a red cross. Saluting him Krieger kept moving, passing by soldiers carrying ammunition, sandbags, and tools as some were still digging at the walls or installing wooden support beams in dug out underground sections as they set up beds and supply cabinets. 

Motors were heard as a half-track drove over a wooden bridge stretching over the trench, as it came to a stop and several troops exited out the back, carrying large stake drivers and hole punchers for constructing the metal tank traps and barb wire lining the outer perimeter. 

Stepping up onto a lookout bench he saw the mine team was working quickly, the entire team being human experts in explosives to avoid any accidental detonations as they set the discs into place, arming them and placing some dirt over them. One soldier dug out a hole and slot in a sign reading 'Warning! Mines!' in both German and English. Or was it 'Ponish' as the locals called it? Semantics.

Regardless, the minefield would ensure that if the enemy approached from anywhere other than the main road, they wouldn't get far. And even if they passed by the minefields, they wouldn't survive the machine guns and rifles firing from the trenches. Continuing his walk through the trenches he saw a pony clutching his hand as he hissed, which prompted Krieger to walk up and inspect the hand. It was throbbing and quite red, and considering there was a hammer dropped on the ground next to the pony, he could guess he hit his own hand.

"I am guessing you accidentally struck your own hand?"

"Well uhhh... Yeah, never used a hammer before, I just really wanted to help out. I don't know how to fight, and I already donated all I could, so I thought I'd try and help out like this." Krieger smiled at the young ponies words, saluting him.

"You my friend, are an upstanding citizen. However, I believe I have a better task for you. We can easily finish the fortifications on our own, those within the town need more hands to help them rebuild and construct additional housing for my people."

"Okay sir... But, I uh, don't speak prench, and the construction manager, he's uh, well, prench. Or, as you say it, 'french'. That's a weird word." Krieger let out a light snort.

"Come now my friend, Pierre may seem strange due to his accent and language, but I assure you he is a fine man who you will have a fine time working with. Now quickly, we are on a deadline!"

"Y-yes sir, for Germaney!" The young stallion said, standing up and saluting before clambering out of the trenches and rushed back towards town. Krieger looked down to see he left his hammer behind, shaking his head before grabbing the hammer and resuming the stallions work of nailing the wooden trench walls. Not like he had much else to do. However, as he finished hammering the nails, he overheard a conversation between two ponies setting up sandbags.

"So what do you think happened to the other towns? Surely we weren't the only ones raided."

"Dunno, Brussia definitely survived, they've got their own guard regiment, but I'm not sure about Hayberg."

"Yeah, and Whineland was probably the first to fall, let's be honest."

Ignoring the similarities between the mentioned names of these towns and cities from his world, a trend that was becoming common, he wondered about the fate of these nearby towns, and knew something would need be done about it. Germaney could not stand on it's own forever, and so once he finished nailing things into place he clambered out of the trench and towards his camp. It's about time some proper reconnaissance of the area was conducted.