A Train to Equestria

by Teq

Service! (Amiens-Laon)

“I’m just going to see who we’re sharing a carriage with.”

Oktava nodded once and, in silence, began to open the cello case at her side. Vinyle couldn’t really see what Oktava was doing, but it was only a few brief moments before she closed the case, slipping something into her coat pocket and coming to stand next to Vinyle, “I will come too. I don’t much like the idea of being left alone.”
“That’s probably wise, what with all the Germans slinking around. What’s that in your pocket, by the way?” Vinyle gestured vaguely at her, referring to the unseen item she’d tried to sneak past her.
“It is my peace of mind, Vinyle.” The answer was cryptic, but it was good enough for Vinyle, so she stepped out of the compartment and into the corridor, standing to one side to allow Oktava out too. Vinyle closed the door behind her and locked it. These trains had their share of thieves.

Vinyle returned the key to her pocket and looked up and down the carriage. There were eight compartments in total, two more towards the front of the train, four further down and one directly opposite. The door at the end of the carriage (which led to another reserved carriage) opened and in stepped a rifle wielding soldier, covered in snow. He sneezed violently as he shut the door, but not before another flurry of snow blew in and carpeted his uniform in tiny flecks of white. He swore under his breath before turning and marching down the corridor, passing the mares and offering a quiet, “Entschuldigung,” before turning to the left and entering the compartment on the left side in front of the door to the coal carriage. Vinyle snorted and began to look through the windows of each compartment.

By the time she and Oktava had finished making their rounds of the carriage, they had reached open country. Vinyle exhaled deeply and gazed out of the window. Trees darted past, the fields a beautifully soft white. France really was beautiful this time of year. The thick snow made it harder to see the rolling barbed wire fences and German roadblocks. There was nopony about outside, and the snow was almost completely undisturbed.

The scouting had proved useful. Opposite their carriage was a small family of three, content with minding their own business. One up from them was a room with three German soldiers seated in it, including a junior officer and a mechanic. Opposite from them was an empty room. One room down from theirs was another family, this one slightly larger and consisting of five members. Opposite from them, there was a room with two Wehrmacht soldiers playing cards. The final room down from theirs was filled with SS officers. There were four in total, plus one black shirted, helmet wearing pony that looked like their driver. There had been a bit of trouble when they’d found this out as the driver spotted them and attempted to interrogate them. Eventually the SS officers ordered him to stand down, as there were no grounds on which they could charge them. The final compartment contained what looked like two business ponies in brown suits. They both had saddlebags at their sides so they looked legitimate, but one had to look very carefully to see through the disguise. The muzzle of a Luger was just visible below one of their coats, and the newspaper that one of them tucked under their foreleg was in German. So they were also sharing their carriage with two Gestapo spies.

Another soldier had come through on his way to the coal carriage, and when Oktava walked into him he threatened to shoot her. Oktava had immediately plunged her hoof into her coat, and the soldier lowered his rifle. Not sure what it was that Oktava had concealed in her coat, the soldier wasn’t ready to take any risks. He instead turned his nose up at both Oktava and Vinyle and continued on his trip. The mechanic in their carriage also left with him, reducing the number of potential threats by one. Still, Vinyle was curious as to what Oktava had tucked away in her coat that was so important.

Back in their carriage, Vinyle looked back at Oktava, “So, what actually do you have in your pocket? What’s so important about it?”
“Do you promise not to tell anypony?”
“Yes.”
“You really cannot tell anypony! It’s not exactly legal.”
“Yes, yes, very well! What is it already?” Oktava sighed and put her hoof back into her pocket, pulling out the item inside. It was sleek and black, with a hoof-carved wooden handle. Oktava held it by the handle as Vinyle stared at it. “What is it?”
“It is a Nagant M1895. It was a gift from my father before I left for France. He was a soldier during the Great War, and he’d received this from his commanding officer as a present. He’d been wounded in an act of bravery, ultimately saving the officer’s life. It is unique and very valuable. I’ve never fired it before, but I always keep it in my cello case, just in case I have to use it.”
“If the Germans find you with this, you’re going to be in serious trouble!”
“Hence I cannot let them find out. If I have to, I will not hesitate to use it though. If it will save my life, or indeed…” she paused briefly. “Your life, then I will do what is necessary.” She tucked the pistol back into her coat.

Vinyle had no weapons of her own. She used to, though. She used to have an old Lebel rifle from the Great War, but it was confiscated from her once the war started so that they could arm the French soldiers quicker. On her person at the moment, however, she was without weapons. She didn’t even have a small pocket knife. She didn’t expect to have to come into any tight scrapes with the Germans, however, so she didn’t feel like she needed one. Just her wits and her identity papers and maybe a small amount of luck.

Clickity clack, clickity clack. The train kept speeding along the rails towards its next destination. As far as Vinyle knew, there weren’t any German checkpoints in this particular stretch of track, but they may have changed that since she’d last checked. Their next stop was Laon, and they were making a very brief passage through the extreme north of the Beauvais region. If there were going to be any checkpoints, they’d be there. For now though, she was content to just watch the scenery and enjoy the view as the snow continued to fall as heavily as ever. She saw a small village not too far away from the track. There was a road close by, and as they shot by she saw a German halftrack with a full load of soldiers in the back, and one soldier at the trigger of a shielded MG42. The halftrack was headed for the town, and Vinyle feared that something bad was about to occur. It put her stomach into a twist and made her feel uneasy. Still, she couldn’t stop it. She was already on the train and she didn’t plan on getting off any time soon.

But the thought of it was knotting her stomach. She stood up again, searching in her coat for money. She found 32 francs in change and declared that she was going to find something to drink. She needed something alcoholic, just to calm her nerves. She wasn’t exactly at ease amongst all of these Nazi officials and the halftrack of infantry had really put her on edge. She asked if Oktava wanted anything, but she abstained. The earth pony undid her pink tie and let it hang around her neck like a drugged snake.

She left the compartment and set her sights on the service carriage. Normally, on a train this size, it would be the carriage immediately after the second reserved one. But, since the Germans had arrived, they’d changed the system, so that now the service carriage was on the opposite side of the train, nearer to where all of the soldiers are positioned. Vinyle would have to go through another reserved carriage and at least three other working class ones before she got to her destination. And that wasn’t accounting for the various armoured carriages there were likely to be further on. Frigging Germans always trying to make things more efficient. Vinyle actually kind of liked the old system.

Still, the more time she spent complaining the more time it would take her to make the trip. She made her way down the corridor until she reached the door that connected the two carriages. She cracked it open. The wind howled as they rushed along the rails, snow flew past and painted the exterior in white. She was going to have to be very careful not to lose her balance. She opened the door fully and was immediately struck in the face by a blast of cold air. She gritted her teeth and pushed her way outside, shutting the door behind her. She could feel the freezing cold metal beneath her hooves that kept the carriages together and quickly made her way across the short distance separating her and the second reserved carriage. She flung the door open and bolted inside as quickly as she could.

She was covered in snow, but now she was inside she no longer felt the chilling effects of the wind. She shivered violently and rubbed one of her forelegs to keep herself warm. This carriage was identical in design to the last one, which meant there were eight carriages. Vinyle wasn’t too keen to go snooping and looking into any of them, but she couldn’t help sneak a peek into one. Inside were two German soldiers, but such soldiers Vinyle hadn’t seen before. Both of them had thick white coats on, with steel helmets and thick scarves wrapped around their necks. They both carried strange looking rifles (or at least had them by their sides) which lacked the usual bolt mechanism but instead possessed a small exterior clip. The rifles were both slung and both sported a large optical scope. Vinyle had heard tales of the ruthlessness of the German snipers.

She shivered again and continued on her way, not taking the time to stop and look through any of the other compartments as she went. She braced herself for another rush of cold air as she flung open the door and made her way across the small divide, more snow driving into her face. It made it very hard to see where she was going, and she was grateful for the rail just to one side of the opposite door which she could use to guide herself. She prised open the door and slipped inside and out of the cold.

But what she’d expected to be the first of a series of working class carriages was, in fact, not. It was very well furnished, but with a strange layout. She was standing in some sort of corridor, which curved around one side of the carriage, with the two very large rooms on the other. There was a deep red carpet and a pleasant trim along the walls, which were themselves well painted. There were also red satin curtains over the windows. Such a lavishly decorated carriage was almost certainly under control of the Germans.

Her suspicions were confirmed when she looked around the corner. There was nopony in the corridor, save for two soldiers with submachine guns at their waists, standing at the position of attention and not moving. Vinyle could hear conversations going on in German and wished she knew what was being said. She made her way along the corridor and attempted to spy into the room without either of the guards noticing. She didn’t see much before the closest guard seized her and pushed her against the wall with a heavy thud. The other guard raised his submachine gun in preparation to fire in case I tried to fight back. There was a loud barking from a dog in the room which was quickly shushed.

The guard pinning her to the wall immediately frisk searched her, looking for concealed weapons or other contraband, before searching her pockets for her identification papers. Being caught without you papers was against the law now, but fortunately Vinyle had hers on her and the guard took them out, flicking them open and using the information to verify her identity. The first thing he did was ask for her name, which she confidently provided. Then he asked for her date of birth, which she again provided. He held the papers up and looked between them and her, using the photograph to try and gauge her likeness. The last thing he did before handing the papers back was cock his head to one side and lean over slightly to catch a glimpse at her rump, comparing the cutie mark on her flank to the one in another photograph. Satisfied, the German folded her papers and handed them back to her. She quickly snatched them off him and continued on her way, not saying a word to the soldier.

She hadn’t seen much, but what she had seen intrigued her. Inside the room had been several ponies. In a chair close to the door was another junior officer, his hooves clasped behind his head as he snoozed. The centrepiece of the room was a large and lavish desk, upon which were many maps and papers and behind which stood a pony of what appeared to be significant importance. His uniform was a deep brown, and he wore a long trench coat upon which was a Knight’s Cross. He had been talking to two other officers, one of which sported the usually grey-green uniform of the Wehrmacht and the other the carbon black of the SS. In another corner at a much smaller desk was a pony in a white shirt, a red armband on one leg, tapping away at a typewriter. Vinyle hadn’t known of the presence of the officer’s party, but now she was she was curious to learn more as to why they were here. More urgently, however, she was curious as to how much further she’d have to go to get that drink.

She made the usual short, cold, snow covered crossing to the next carriage and found herself in the first of the working class carriages. There was no privacy here, as the only things separating the many compartments were wire meshes. There were easily a dozen civilians in this carriage, with about half a dozen soldiers either sitting and talking to each other or patrolling the central corridor. Vinyle squeezed past one of them and passed a group of civilians who recognised her an immediately went silent as she walked past, exchanging a few excited quips in French which went generally along the lines of, “I bet fifteen francs she hits one of those soldiers.” She was sorry to disappoint, but she liked the idea of keeping her head on her shoulders a lot more than hitting one of the German soldiers.

The next carriage on was another working class one, so there wasn’t anything really interesting there. As she entered the next carriage along, however, something was different. Where normally there should have been the third working class carriage, there was instead an unfurnished one that had been filled with an unknown cargo. There were two German soldiers marching around the carriage whilst a few mechanics crouched down and played with the fastening. Overseeing the carriage was a junior officer, who leaned on the wall with a clipboard in one hoof and a pen in his mouth, jotting down notes as the various mechanics called over various different things. Vinyle made her way through the room with few problems, but was left wondering what the Germans were transporting.

She made her way through another working class carriage before, at last, reaching the white painted interior of the service carriage. Most of the carriage was taken up by a large counter, behind which stood a finely dressed young stallion and an assortment of beverages and foodstuffs. It all looked very good; the pastries, the wines, the waiter. Vinyle was just worried as to how much it was going to cost her. She made her way up to the counter and smiled at the stallion, “Bonjour, monsieur.”
“Bonjour, madame. How may I serve you?”
“How much for a decent bottle of wine?”
“Well, madame, that very much depends on the wine. This one here, for example,” he held up a bottle of red wine and showed it to her. “Is a mere fifteen francs. If you wanted to go more up market, you can try this,” he showed her a bottle of white wine with a rather lavish label. “That would cost you twenty five francs. The choice is yours. Or you could invest in some Champaign. That’s very popular amongst the Germans.”

Vinyle scanned the selection a couple times. She was by no means an expert on wine. She didn’t usually drink it, but she wanted to bring something back for Oktava to enjoy as well, and she looked like quite a refined mare. She wanted something that would be friendly to her wallet but also make her look sophisticated. Wait, what did she care? She never cared about what other ponies thought of her (unless it was good) and that was part of what made her who she was. Why did she feel the need to impress this pony? Maybe she just wanted to make herself look important, or maybe she wanted to prove to her that she knew what being classy was all about? Maybe she just wanted to build bridges early on to make the gruelling journey slightly less gruelling? Whatever the reason, she picked up a bottle of white wine for twenty francs. The waited unscrewed the cork with a corkscrew, before returning it to the neck so that it could be transported more easily. He offered to carry it back to the carriage for her, but she refused, fearing that he may charge her for the additional service. She picked up two glasses on her way out and began the journey back to her carriage.

Admittedly, maybe getting that waiter to help her wouldn’t have been such a bad idea after all. Getting the doors open was proving a bit of a nightmare and she almost slipped off onto the tracks and under the wheels at one point. She managed to make it the full return journey without being stopped and searched, though, so that was a bonus. She returned to her carriage with a sigh of relief, sliding open the door to her compartment and smiling at Oktava, who was sitting staring out of the window at the beautiful scenery. Vinyl closed the door and set about pouring the beverage, leaning back in her seat and at last relaxing.

Interval.

Comments

[Iron Comet]

Iteresting story and I look forward to see where it goes. Occupied France was an interesting place from people I talked to when I was younger and from what I have read.

[Teq]

5173267 Most indeed! I've actually just come back from France myself. Doing some research on the trenches and various other conflicts. Visited a few graveyards too. Very poignant.

[Iron Comet]

Oh did you check out the Catacombs beneath Paris? Very entertaining, especially when you get into the area's where the resistence used them as bases of operations tthen discover how close they were to german occupied tunnels. Backpacked Europe about twenty years back, about all I can remember besides Vienna and parts of Germany.

[Teq]

5179261 I didn't really spend a noteworthy amount of time in the capital. Most of my visit was based around Lille and Ypres. I did get to see a German memorial whilst I was there, which is partly what's inspired another fic that I have in the works.

[Iron Comet]

I remember memorials even today, but they all kind of blurred together after all these years. I do remember the scars in the land from trenches that cut through farm fields and towns and looking at a map for a town that doesn't exist except on the map because it was destroyed during the Great War.

[Teq]

5180669 Mmm. Well, war memorials have become part of France's culture in a way, particularly in the north. If you ever visit Langemark (the German memorial), you'll notice a very stark difference between it and all of the allied memorials. It's kind of eerie in a way.