Chapter II: Preparing for Battle

"Comrades, you've got to go in once more. It's not about Berlin any more, it's not about the Reich any more." - General Walther Wenck

Hauptmann Gerhard Köln

German 12th Army, XX Corps

2nd Inf. Bat., 3rd Inf. Reg.

3,6 kilometres from the River Elbe, 2nd IB Camp

26 April 1945

0903 hours

Gerhard looked around as an Opel Blitz truck drove by, throwing dirt into the air as it transported wounded soldiers from the 9th Army to the medic tents. He watched the truck swerve around the blackened hulk of a Panzer IV, then heard the brakes screech as the driver brought the truck to a halt. A few shouts could be heard as the casualties were unloaded and taken into care. Sighing, he returned to cleaning his sturmgewehr, scrubbing the bolt clean of the dirt and powder residue that had accumulated on it over the past few days.

"What's wrong, herr?"

Startled, the man looked up again to see Ella Krazer, one of the Volkssturm conscripts that he had taken under his wing, walking up behind him with a paper in her hand. The young girl had lost both her mother and father to the Soviets as the Red Army stormed through the entirety of eastern Germany towards Berlin, razing everything in their path. He and the other members of the squad had found her hiding among the fallen in Kleinmachnow, before the Second Battalion had pulled out to sit off the River Elbe.

"Nothing much." Gerhard replied, beginning to reassemble his rifle. "I just doubt we have enough medical supplies to help even our own wounded, let alone those from the 9th Army." The seventeen-year old girl nodded, watching as Gerhard put the action of the rifle back together. After a moment, she sat down next to him, handing over the various parts of the complicated assault rifle.

"Kommandant?"

"Hmm?"

"Why do you think we're still here?"

'That's a good question.' Gerhard thought as he placed the firing pin, spring, and bolt in and clamped the cover shut with an audible click. He wiped the outside of the rifle down thoroughly as he formulated a halfway decent response. "We're just holding here to catch any last remnants of troops retreating, I think. If I had to guess, I'd say we'll start moving west any day now."

The young girl seemed to accept that answer, saying nothing as she continued watching Gerhard finish his weapon maintenance. Suddenly, as if she'd forgotten she had it, she handed the scrap of paper over to him. "By the way, I was told to inform you that the meeting had been moved."

"To when?" Gerhard asked, taking the paper and glancing it over. There was a barely-legible scrawl that could have only come from one of his fellow officers; he'd have to thank him later.

"In ten minutes."

Gerhard sighed and shook his head. "Thank you Ella. Go ahead and find the others; I'll probably have some news after this." She nodded and stood, making to leave before pausing. "One more thing, sir?"

"Go for it."

"Could you show me how to take proper care of this?" She shifted her rifle up slightly, showing a rather dirty VG1 rifle, standard for the volkssturm corps. "Stabsfeldwebel Schnieder said you'd probably be able to figure it out easier than anyone else."

"When I get a chance, I don't see why not." the hauptmann responded. "Haven't met a weapon I can't figure out yet." 'All that work on 109s paid off, even here in the infantry.'

The girl showed a brief grin and thanked him before turning and going about the task he assigned her. He watched as she jogged through the camp and disappeared, leaving him alone with his thoughts once again. Shaking his head, Gerhard shouldered his rifle and began walking towards the headquarters tent, readying himself for whatever command would hand down to the Twelfth Army today.

"Thank you all for coming early today." General Wenck, the commander of the German Twelfth Army, started as the many officers gathered around the tent listened. "I apologize for the inconveniences it may cause, but after meeting with General Busse, I feel that our plans need to be put into action as soon as possible if we are to succeed." There was some murmuring around the table as the men looked to each other, expecting that the Führer had issued out some more inconceivable, if not impossible, orders from the depths of his bunker, where he'd been sheltering ever since the first Soviet train had pulled into Berlin and offloaded troops. The general waited for the group to settle, took a deep breath, then continued. "For what it's worth, the Twelfth Army has received orders from the Führerbunker that we are to attack the First Belorussian Front, under command of General Zhukov, relieve the forces in the city center, and provide for the evacuation of High Command."

There was absolute silence in the command tent as each of the officers present processed the words of their commander. For the unsupplied and demoralized Twelfth Army to attack what made up the elite force of the Red Army attacking Berlin would only result in the total loss of the force, likely suffering a fate similar, if not worse, than the Ninth. Before any objections could be voiced, however, General Wenck raised his hand to silence the inevitable tirade and cries of disbelief.

"As given, such orders are impossible to complete. There are few armies capable of even mounting such an offensive, and none able to see it through." The general's subordinates nodded in agreement,with a few low voices replying with a little more fervor in doing so. Gerhard watched as the general looked to his aide momentarily, then turned back to the conference table before him as the remaining officers of the Twelfth Army waited for the general's next words. "In light of that fact, and in acknowledgement of it, I have drafted, and gained support with General Busse, a different plan." Taking a deep breath, the general looked down at the table as he began. "I have decided to ignore the orders and begin an evacuation of Berlin."

The tent was silent again as the gathered officers showed a variety of expressions, from shock at the bold move Wenck was taking, to determined faces as others realized exactly what the general meant. No objections were made as Wenck looked around at his men.

"I wish to counterattack towards central Berlin, pushing as far as we can safely hold. This will open up a corridor in the weaker Soviet forces surrounding the Reichstag. As one of the strongest units remaining this side of the Elbe, we will maintain the corridor and evacuate civilians and any armed forces across the Tangermünde bridge to the north, where we will surrender to the Allies." Most of the men around the table, Gerhard included, nodded in agreement with the general's words.

General Wenck straightened, looking each of his officers in the eye. "Gentlemen, many of you have been part of this army since the war's beginning. You have seen a number of victories, and even more defeats. I think we all know that this will be one of the most trying challenges yet, however, and therefore I ask you to remain vigilant and steadfast in your fight against the enemy. Our ultimate task is not our own survival in this battle, but the survival of our families, our neighbors. As such, we will evacuate ourselves only at the end of the operation. As we fight, remember to carry yourselves in the tradition of a righteous German officer, and conduct yourselves accordingly, no matter what your enemy does."

The general looked around once more, his silence and expression allowing for any comments, positive or otherwise, to be made. Upon receiving none, though, he nodded. "Very well. Return to your units and prepare for battle. The operation will commence tomorrow morning at daybreak. Good luck to each and every one of you, and your soldiers."

Gerhard stood with the other men as they snapped to attention, whereupon they saluted their commanding officer with vigor, as though they were a fresh unit just out of training. General Wenck paused, looking at the officers' display of loyalty. Slowly, he returned the salute, maintaining it for a few silent moments before releasing it. Then, without a word, Generals Wenck and Busse, accompanied by their aides, exited the tent as the gathered officers dispersed to give their squads the news.

The Twelfth would be going in once more.

Maho Nishizumi

Kuromorimine Girls' High School

Abashiri, Okhotsk Subprefecture, Hokkaido

12 November 2025

0830 hours

Maho stood outside of the Pravda Girls' High School entrance, waiting for a response from the doorman inside as the wind outside howled. She looked around the quiet street, seeing only a few early-morning risers walking down the sidewalks on their way to work, most wearing heavy coats to protect them from the weather.

Suddenly, the sound of shifting locks turned the young girl's head back to the entrance as an older man opened the door, looking up at Maho briefly, smiling as his eyes lit up with recognition. "Miss Nishizumi! It has been quite some time; please, come in."

"Thank you very much, Mister Kojima." Maho said as she entered. The heavy wooden door thudded shut as she took off her jacket and turned to face the elderly doorman, who took it from her and hung it up on the wall next to his desk.

"Misses Katyusha and Nonna are waiting for you in the greatroom, Miss Nishizumi." Mister Kojima said as he slowly shuffled back to his seat in front of the television; on it was a rerun of Knight Scoop, which seemed to be a favorite of the old man. "I am sure your bright young mind remembers the way, correct?"

"Of course, sir." Maho replied, a trace of a smile on her face. Expressing her thanks once more, she turned and began walking down the silent passage towards the greatroom, her footsteps echoing as she went. Upon reaching the great, oaken doors to the room, Maho knocked twice and stepped back. After a few moments, the door opened to the infamous sniper of Pravda, who dipped her head at the sight of the Kuromorimine commander. "Miss Maho, welcome."

"How are you, Nonna?" Maho asked quietly, entering into the greatroom. Nonna hummed a response as Maho paused, taking in the room around her. Near the fireplace, at her desk, Katyusha was watching as her counterpart entered, the environment helping her look every bit like the stereotypical Soviet politician, if quite a bit shorter.

"Good to see you've made it safely." Katyusha said, absent of her usual asperity as she looked up from some papers. She shifted in her seat slightly, glancing at Nonna for a moment before her gaze returned to Maho. "Would you like anything to drink? Tea, perhaps? Or coffee?"

"Tea, please." Maho replied, taking the seat offered as she approached Katyusha's desk. As Nonna began preparing the tea to the side, Katyusha straightened her workspace up, keeping whatever it was hidden; likely related to the subject Maho was here to discuss. "Do you have a date in mind to commence the match?"

The smaller girl nodded once, shifting again in her chair before responding. "The sooner we can begin, the better. We expect the weather to turn foul soon; it would be a shame for our rivals to be bogged down by a sudden blizzard." Katyusha said this second part with a knowing grin on her face, and despite the facade, Maho appreciated her counterpart's willingness to fight on relatively even terms.

"Next Monday would work best, I think." Maho responded. "That will be enough time for us to unload our vehicles and prepare them for battle." Maho said, taking a moment to drink from her cup. "In the meantime, I will take my crew and head up to the training grounds tomorrow, if you don't mind. I'd like to scout around."

"Be careful when you go." Nonna stated, bringing over two cups of tea. "The forecast is likening the weather to last year's from this time. If not worse."

Maho nodded slowly at the raven-haired girl's words, taking a slow drink. The room was silent as the three girls took a moment to relax in the warmth of the fireplace and company. Maho's mind, on the other hand, was racing. 'She couldn't mean...?'

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, the Kuromorimine commander stood, setting her teacup down. "Thank you for both your time and the tea. I shall inform my mother of the plan and get back to you shortly."

Katyusha and Nonna both dipped their heads in response as Maho left the greatroom. Shutting the door behind her, she walked a little ways down the darkened hallway before stepping to the side, withdrawing an Iron Cross from her breast pocket. Nonna's words, whether intended to or not, had caused the normally composed and straightforward Nishizumi heir to falter, even if momentarily. Maho recalled the joking words of the young pilot who gave it to her after she'd given him her charm bracelet, saying it was the most he had at the time, and if she wanted, he'd probably have three more next time they saw each other.

Smiling faintly at the memory, Maho tightened her grip on the German medal, sporadic memories running through her mind as she thought back to those days almost a year ago. Some of the worst, yes, but also one of her best had happened in that time. She stood there a few more minutes before the sound of footsteps brought her out of her mind. Stowing the medal away, she focused on the task ahead as she made her way out into the grounds of Pravda.

She had a reputation to uphold, after all, and it wouldn't do to be distracted.

Rewrite Notes

I went back and read parts of Cold Steel. It's like watching the really good second season of an anime and going back to the first to realize how cringy it was.

To delta2177: Continued thanks for Ella here. I plan to utilize all the OCs I was given as I rewrite/continue writing, and Ella was the first to be introduced.

Historical Note: The order to break into the Berlin encirclement was, reportedly, given to a more capable SS force originally. However, by that same report, the commander of said force failed to respond and/or requested to be given a separate, 'more suitable' task, and as such the mission was deferred to the severely under-strength and under-equipped 12th Army.