ANOTHER New Story (my best one so far)
 

Keep in mind that this story was written from the point of view of a regular German soldier, fighting against the Russians in Berlin. It is what he sees, not what history sees.

A Hope Long Lost

It was late in April of 1945. The Third Reich was in shambles in and around Berlin. My division was one of the last remaining regular divisions, other than the SS. As I stood on the steps of the Reichstag, looking out over the smoldering pile of rubble that was once the beautiful home of a once powerful force and hearing the not so distant pop of gunfire, I lit up a cigarette, knowing very well, it may be my last.

As I stood there pondering how I ever got caught up in this mess, how the Third Reich ever sunk this deep, I realized that we were fighting for the wrong cause. We had been fighting for approximately six years trying to conquer Europe. I then realized we had to keep fighting. We had to stay alive, if not for the good of Germany, then for the good of Europe.

We all knew, as humans, not as Germans, that if the Russians took control of Europe, they would exact revenge for their slain comrades not on the soldiers they had fought, but the citizens of this once great, but now war torn Europe. We could not allow this to happen.

The Americans were closing in from the West, while the Ruskis were banging on Berlin’s Eastern gate. To one, the situation seems hopeless, but if we could only manage to hold out until the Americans arrived, we might have a chance at survival.

Attacks made by the Russians were beginning to occur more frequently. In some extreme cases, maybe even three a day. And with all these attacks came the piling casualty count. I knew we couldn’t hold them off much longer. The thought on everyone’s mind was “When will those damn yanks show up?”

The rain storms had begun late in March and still continued. I once heard an American POW say “April showers bring May flowers.” I couldn’t see how they could call it a shower, for it did not wash away the stains of blood from my uniform.

The Russians had crossed the Oder River and were already in the suburbs of Berlin. I was sent to a housing sector to help hold off the Russians. As I walked toward my position from using the toilet, I walked past a young boy, maybe 15 or so. He was wearing a Hitler Youth uniform and sitting in a shallow foxhole. I knelt down beside him.

“What are you doing here? You should be at home.” I asked. To this, he replied,

“I have no home. My father was killed at Stalingrad. My mother, taken by drunken Russians and my younger sister was executed. I have nowhere else to be.”

I was not surprised. I, too, had fought in the Godforsaken hellhole of Stalingrad and knew what it was like. I had heard rumors of Russians raping young women and little girls, then executing them so they wouldn’t talk. These were the atrocities that we had to fight against. I do not deny that similar atrocities were committed by the SS and some of the Heer, or regular army, but not in such numbers as the Russians. I told the boy,

“If you choose to stay, at least hide in a basement of a house. Take some men and some Panzerfausts and fire at the Russian tanks as they appear.”

“Yes, sir.” He replied. He went back to the ammo dump.

A few days later, the Russians had mounted a full scale assault on Berlin. Bombers, tanks, artillery, infantry, almost everything one could think of was bearing down on the now crumbling defenses.

The house where I sat had a view of the Reichstag, which dominated the view out of that particular window. I fired my rifle at the passing Russians, who didn’t seem to notice me. They began to storm the Reichstag and within minutes, a Red Army soldier appeared on the roof triumphantly waving the soviet flag.

As I ran out of ammunition, I set my weapon down on the floor and put my back against the wall below the window. I began to think back to the days where my unit would march with our heads held high, triumphantly waving to the cheering crowds. The most recent time I remembered that happening was in 1940 when we captured Paris. I brought my knees up to my chin and began to cry. I cried and wept for I realized that the hope I had to make it out alive…was a hope long lost.

What do you think?

Dlo the ke'kle dance cause its coo.

Just then there was a knock on the door, Adolph Hitler walked in, in all his glory.

He had just taken a bath & was still covered in hot soapy goodness, he winked at me with his big baby-blue aryan eyes. The light of the explosions outside highlighted in the glossy sparkle seated in his pupil. He smiled & adopted a teapot stance.

"Cum vit mee bigg boiee." He said, I knew I couldn't contain myself for my Furher any longer, it was what my unit expected. Loyalty was my honour & there was no greater reward than being with the Furher.

I stood up & walked over to the master, he winked at me & pursed his lips in a fashion that only aryans can understand. Then he grabbed me with his big slippery arms & yelled "Take ME NOW SMITT!" Then he began to work my big aryan goodness from the front & I screamed. "DO ME NOW MEINE FURHER, DO ME LIKE EVA BRAUN IN ZE BUNKER!" & boy did he...

LOL...nasty, yet irresistably funny

[quote="Fluffy_Bunny":e55f6]Just then there was a knock on the door, Adolph Hitler walked in, in all his glory.

He had just taken a bath & was still covered in hot soapy goodness, he winked at me with his big baby-blue aryan eyes. The light of the explosions outside highlighted in the glossy sparkle seated in his pupil. He smiled & adopted a teapot stance.

"Cum vit mee bigg boiee." He said, I knew I couldn't contain myself for my Furher any longer, it was what my unit expected. Loyalty was my honour & there was no greater reward than being with the Furher.

I stood up & walked over to the master, he winked at me & pursed his lips in a fashion that only aryans can understand. Then he grabbed me with his big slippery arms & yelled "Take ME NOW SMITT!" Then he began to work my big aryan goodness from the front & I screamed. "DO ME NOW MEINE FURHER, DO ME LIKE EVA BRAUN IN ZE BUNKER!" & boy did he...[/quote:e55f6]

You for forgot the fisting part.

I know, this creation was all mine though, the other was stolen from the renown AYBABTU...

I love it.

Good job.

Randy, its awesome. Keep that story goin

One day i was in at the park...I SAW A BIRD! It WAS SUNNY!

That’s ok…but I would change it to be: I SAW A BIRD!...It WAS SUNNY…but I soon realized
that the bird was not alone, and they were not birds, they were Ju87s.

The parks illusion of sanctuary exploded around me as the stukas performed their deadly diving
runs to evil perfection, the combination of the Nazis new weapons and my gamers new graphics
card were making life hell for me and the guys, it was like, no matter where we re-spawned,
we were being owned large style.

I ran around in circles for a while there, I was 10%, maybe 15% health at best. My gamer hit
the “Z” key and I crawled onward over the next dune, where I saw a Nazi encampment.
There was a Tiger tank guarding the main bunker and I kissed my crucifix in thanks for
choosing anti-tank weapons last time I got killed.

I unleashed my ‘zook and we were fucking up those Nazi cock-suckers something fierce
when a shadow engulfed us….” bombers!” was my first thought, but I soon realised it was
our gutless gamer again…exiting the friggen level....
for a porn site or to have dinner or some such shit.

Fucken typical. We try to relax, I tell the boys cigarettes and enemy are the same
…smoke ‘em if you got ‘em. They laugh as they catch the cans of beer I throw at them,
the beer is warm but no-one complains …I laugh too.

I laugh, and when I can, I cry…I’ve fought these same maps over and over again…
I’ve done my best and given my all. But now, my gamer,
..I’m begging you, take me off the line….uninstall me or I’ll turn TK.

Wait, im not a historian or anything but in the story you said he had fought in Stalingrad and in Paris? Is that possible?

The Germans took Paris before they attacked their partner the USSR

Who are you?

Spicface.