World War Two: The War From Both Sides

by GermanSniper243

WW2 has broken out, one part of the story is from young Paul's eyes, a german boy who enlisted at sixteen into the german army. It recounts both his experience as a German machine gunner, and the experiences of seventeen year old Aaron, who enlisted as an American marksmen, or a sniper in other words. You have both sides of the story now, but, who is right?

1. Paul chapter 1

(Alright i know beginning of chap two is the same thing but I'm trying to work out the kinks.)

I sit down next to the boy. He seems to be about nineteen. He is withdrawn, small, and looks depressed, I think he's shell shocked.

*CLICK*

In this small room, the sound of my tape recorder sounds eerily similar to the cocking of a gun.

Historian:"Alright, so Paul is it? "

The boy only nods and pulls his knees up to his chest.

Historian: Well, Paul, I'm a historian, we wanted to document the goings on of the war you experienced.

The boy only shakes his head and mutters to himself, "I don't like thinking about anything from the war."

But you can see his eyes glazing over, as if deep in thought, I know there is a story there, begging to be told.

*CLICK*

The roar of the Panzer echoes in my ear, small arms fire pelt of the Panzer I have been assigned to, I crouched.

Grimacing, I pull the machine gun into my arms, I have been to assigned to Panzer #53 as a machine gunner, I hate the work.

It pays good though, I crouch, putting the stock in my shoulder, I stand through the top of the tank, setting my machine gun on the edge of the hatch on the tanks I sight in on the nearest Allied powers soldier.

Squeezing the trigger, I feel the MG kick in my shoulder as I watch the man goes down. I feel back in my sync of the events. It happens every time, I aim, shoot, and they die.

I just have to make sure it stays that way. And the only way to do it is to make sure they die first...

A loose round snaps by my head with a buzzing sound like a bee on steroids. I whip in the direction it came from and sight in on the next man, not letting up on the trigger, I set the on the next and next and the next. They all die. They all do.

My machine gun clicks empty and I cringe as another round goes by, I duck as I move to reload, it goes on like this for hours.

Eventually we break free of the fighting. I begin to breathe a little more easily.

Though, I couldn't shake the feeling someone was watching me.

Night was falling though, I dropped down into the tank and hunkered down for the night with the other operators. Tomorrow we cross into Stalingrad.