Hey there everyone. I'm back, after a while of doing nothing. This is my first Strike Witches fanfic. I hope you enjoy. I do not own Strike Witches!
German translations:
Fallschirmjagers/Paratrooper; Oberfeldwebel/Master Sergeant; Feldwebel/Sergeant; Engel der Nacht/Angel of the Night; Ja/Yes; Panzerschreck/Bazooka; Oberjager/Corporal; Jager/Private; Leutnant/Lieutenant; Herr/Sir; Panzergrenadier/Mechanized Infantry; Panzer/Tank
Saturday, December 23, 2243 hours, in the woods north of Bastogne:
A pair of witches soared over head at tree top level. They were silhouetted by the moon, and the starlight shone off of their Striker Units. The witches continued straight for a while, then banked right, heading south, the sound of their magic engines waking a sleeping Karlsland Feldwebel.
"It's her" the man sitting next to him, an Oberfeldwebel, said. The two men sat in a foxhole in the Ardennes, the frozen ground continuously sucking the warmth from their bodies.
Feldwebel Hans Stohr smiled. "By her, I assume you mean our Engel der Nacht" Stohr said, looking up and trying to spot said witch.
"Ja" Oberfeldwebel Erich Horst, a tall man, about six foot three, with blonde hair and bright green eyes responded. He gave off a commanding presence, even while sitting down, and his size made him rather intimidating. The Oberfeldwebel was twenty-eight, old in comparison to the band of replacements he was leading, who were no more than boys. Erich sat down, unbuckling his battered and dented M38 Fallschirmjager helmet. Placing it on the ground beside him, he shifted his K98 bayonet to the side to make himself more comfortable, and patting his ammo pouch with four clips to make sure it was safe. He pulled his tattered gray overcoat around him to try and ward off the cold. He checked his FG42 assault rifle, loaded with one twenty round clip. His Walther P38, safely in it's holster, knocked against his map case as he did so.
"And look at that, tonight she has a friend. Good for her" Hans said, looking back down and closing his eyes. Hans was shorter than his friend, standing at five foot eight, with black hair and blue eyes. Hans was talkative, friendly, and older than Erich by one year. He had studied at the University of Jena, and because of this had been nicknamed "Professor". He cradled an MP40 submachine gun with six thirty-two round clips sitting in his pouch next to him. The two men slipped into a comfortable silence, as the night carried on.
It had been one week since the Neuroi had swarmed over the Rhine and pushed into the Ardennes. Most of the 9th Panzer Division had been decimated and forced to pull back, leaving behind the 10th Panzergrenadier Regiment and what was left of the 102nd Panzer Artillery Regiment to defend Bastogne. The 2nd Fallschirmjager Division had been quickly placed into the gap to reinforce the line, but the damage had been done.
The Neuroi encircled Bastogne and the Karlsland soldiers, cutting them off. Since then, Erich and Hans had cheated death on a number of occasions.
The closest they had been to death had been last night. Erich had been on patrol with Hans and eight other men. They had been steadily making their way back to their positions when several Neuroi tanks ambushed them. Caught out in the open, Erich ordered his men to retreat, when a beam struck the ground a meter in front of him. The force of the blast knocked him off his feet, and he would have died, if not for Hans and Oberjager Karsten Dornefeld dragging him to safety. Erich had lost seven men in that ambush, which meant that he only had twenty men left in a platoon that originally had forty-two.
"You should rest. I'll take watch for you" Hans said.
"I'll sleep later" Erich responded, keeping his eyes focused on the clearing that marked the line between the Neuroi and the Fallschirmjagers.
Hans shook his head, then said "At least let me take watch".
Erich looked at him, then nodded. "Fine. I think I'll go check on our young rabbits" he said, climbing out of the foxhole and stretching. Hans shifted himself so he could keep an eye on the clearing and the woods beyond. Erich began walking along the edge of the trees, taking long, leisurely strides, assault rifle slung over his shoulder, arms swinging freely. He stopped and looked up at the sky as he heard the sound of magical engines.
The two witches were flying over again, and the one the Fallschirmjagers affectionately called "Engel der Nacht" spotted him. She had short gray hair, green eyes, and pale skin, as far as Erich could tell. On her right shoulder rested a large weapon, similar to a panzerschreck, and she wore a thick coat and a red scarf. From her head sprouted small black cat ears, and a black tail poked out from under her coat. Her strikers were black, with an Orussian star painted on the sides. He saw her smile, then wave at him with her free hand.
Her friend, a girl with long, almost white hair, violet eyes, and a black foxes ears and tail, waved at him as well. Erich smiled and waved back at the girls, then turned and walked towards Oberjager Dornefeld and Jager Klaus Eckolt's foxhole.
'They shouldn't be fighting in this war. They're just kids' Erich thought as he approached the two young men, who, at the moment, were talking about their lives before the war. 'Kids, just like these two, and every other soldier under my command. Just like the ones I couldn't save' he thought with regret.
Erich paused and scowled 'No! It was their time. And when it's my time, it won't matter how fast I run, it'll be my time' he thought. He had picked up that phrase from his father, and had used it ever since the war had started.
His father, Wilhelm Horst, had been a Leutnant in the First Neuroi War. He had lost his left arm during the battle of Verdun, cut off by a flying chunk of an exploding tank. Erich knew that his father's words were true, yet he still felt guilty for the loss of his men.
Erich continued forward, the snow crunching under his boots, putting the thoughts of death to the back of his mind, as he came into earshot of the two young soldiers.
"And her father was absolutely furious. He said 'If I ever catch you even looking at my daughter again, I will hit you so hard, when you come to you're going to need a new haircut!'" Karsten said, while Klaus laughed uncontrollably.
"He… he said that?" Klaus asked, gasping for breath.
Karsten smiled widely, his amber eyes glinting with glee in the moonlight, and replied "Ja".
"So what did you do after that?" Klaus asked.
Karsten chuckled, "We both agreed to never try it again within a kilometer of her parents".
Klaus began laughing again, his bright blue eyes on the verge of tears.
Erich squatted down next to them and said, "Learn from his mistake Klaus. Never, and I mean never…"
"Ja, ja, I'll be sure to keep my sidearm holstered until I'm married, Herr Oberfeldwebel" Klaus interrupted Erich.
Erich smiled, and pushed the eighteen year olds helmet forward so it covered his eyes. "Good boy. Now, Karsten," Erich said, looking at the twenty-three year old, "start from the beginning. This sounds like a very interesting story".
This will be a multi chapter story. Not quite sure how long yet. Love it, hate it, leave a review. lap1997