Eastern Front

Erik's, my host, past memories taught me everything I might need to know about the army. Erik was recruited sometime before the "Great Bifrost" Operation began.. Having a military family, Erik was not going to refuse conscription and immediately entered the ground forces. It was not the safest career, but it was much better than being unemployed, if you manage to survive the war for a couple of years then you can opt for a transfer to another front or even to a "Safer" Job in the army.

The latter thing I did not understand much until I delved into his memories; It is assumed that at this time there is no safe place in all of Germany, they are near the end. I hope it does not get me on the eastern front, the Russians were not merciful to any of the Germans they managed to capture.

I didn't understand it until I saw the first enemy "tank", it had the shape; that of course; but it was not a tank at all. Or at least it wasn't a typical tank. It was a kind of "organism" of glossy black color, it looked like enameled, and some spots of brilliant red color. Supported by four strange legs that looked more like an insect than mechanical legs. The said organism was familiar to me. With the assimilation of Erik's memories, I could not remember why the strange organism was familiar to me.

I was dumbfounded looking at the strange tank with legs. I heard something in the distance, something or someone asked me, no, ordered me to lie down. It was as if the person who was speaking to me was speaking through a wall and several feet away.

Something flew by just above my head at high speed and then the strange black insectoid tank exploded into pieces in a violent explosion.

The shock wave hit me squarely, sending me several meters from where I was and from behind. As soon as my back and head hit the ground, I lost consciousness.

Before long I opened my eyes and found myself in a completely different place. The roof was dull green and clearly cloth from what I must have been inside a tent.

I tilted my head to try to get a broader view of me, to my left was an empty bed and to my right another row of beds just as empty. I was in a field hospital and I must have been the only jerk who was wounded in combat. What a shame, that they hurt you while doing something that could be considered heroic has a pass but to get them to send you to the hospital in your first encounter with the enemy without ever firing a single bullet ... I put my hand to my face to try to hide it out of shame, and as my hands brushed the skin of my face I felt stabs of pain.

I sat back on the bed quickly to then search the belongings of my backpack, located on the other side of the tent; right in front of the bed; to find my bathroom mirror. It was one of the things that were supplied as part of the standard equipment of the Wehrmacht, when we asked the quartermaster officer, he simply told us: "Now it doesn't seem useful to you, but when you've been here for a few years and your beard starts to grow You will see how you love him, it can also be used to look outside the trench without having to stick your head out. " He added that last while winking at us, as if he had given us invaluable advice. Now I understand that advice and it's almost infinite value.

Finally I managed to find the happy mirror, I looked at the reflection and let go of the glass almost immediately, scared by the image I saw reflected in it.

My face and part of my chest were dotted with hundreds of tiny cuts, it was like having gone back to puberty, only instead of having pimples on my face it was plagued with dull red dots and cuts even with some blood. fresh. The face and chest were quite clean but even so when I moved they must have reopened, letting out the blood that was under the skin.

Someone enters the tent alarmed by the noise of the glass falling to the ground. The person is a medical officer, has a friendly face. The doctor bends down and picks up the mirror, "luckily it is not broken" says the doctor as he offers it to me with a wide smile on his face.

"Excuse me, " I look at the rank insignia and notice that he's an officer "sir. But can you tell me how I ended up in the hospital?"
"Don't worry Gefreiter, many act like you when they see a turtle for the first time." The doctor answers in an almost paternal tone.

Now that I remember it; Erik did so well during training that he was promoted a couple of ranks. That which he called me 'Gefreiter' right now is something like a graduate soldier or something between the private and the first soldier.

"Ahh yes. I already remember. It was nothing like how the instruction books detailed it. I was trying to remember where I had seen it before. Someone was yelling at me to throw myself to the ground and then the enemy exploded into little pieces. I guess that's where the cuts on my face come from."
The doctor nods. "Indeed. Your commanding officer ordered you to drop to the ground so that the command Sdkfz.250 could fire the barrel of its mount at the turtle and thus eliminate the threat without injuring you in the process."
"So today I have learned a very valuable lesson. Thanks Doktor."
"You're welcome, Gefreiter, but I must inform you that that happened yesterday," the medical officer replies, lowering his tone.
"Yesterday?" The doctor nods. "What has taken me so long to recover from a concussion?"
"We do not know. But you have a strong body, when you were brought to the hospital your injuries were not that severe. Either you have a constitution that you should thank your parents for, or your commanding officer has exaggerated a bit so we can heal you quickly. He claimed that you could lose an eye for it. And I do not see any problem, you will have marks, yes. But nothing serious."
"I see ... Thank you very much Doktor. Now I have to collect my things to rejoin my platoon."
"Don't forget to thank your parents in your next letter." Add the doctor with his reinstated smile.
"That will not be possible sir, both have been missing since the beginning of the evacuation operation."
"Oh. Sorry Gefreiter. I didn't want him to remember bad memories. Have a nice day Gefreiter."
"Likewise, Doktor."

I hurry to gather my things to leave the medical tent as soon as possible and rejoin my platoon. They've been without me for a day, and from how the Doktor has told me, it seems they might be worried.

I approach the half-track 'Alte' that belongs to the commanding officer of our unit.

The young noncommissioned officer raises his head as my shadow is projected on his map, the young man smiles.

I stand and salute in a martial way.

"The Gefreiter Erik Hozzel is presented, already recovered and ready to return to active duty."
"Well, I'm glad you're okay. Now is when you take a seat, and patiently endure the row. Because as a promising cadet I will not wait for the leader of your squad to teach you, I will do it myself."
"Yes Herr, Feldwebel Haase."

The lesson can be summarized in a row of about twenty minutes in which the noncommissioned officer explains in detail why when you are ordered to lie down you must do it immediately. Using reasonable and logical arguments and without having to resort to 'because I order you to.'

"Finally, and like is your first offense. I'm not going to send you to confinement. That would be a waste, instead you and your squad will go first every time the position has to be scouted or overtaken by at least two weeks. This way you will understand the dangerousness of what you did yesterday and you will lose the desire to do it again. " The noncommissioned officer adds and informs with a dark smile on his face.
"But Herr Feldwebel, my squad is not to blame for the incident." Only I should take the punishment.
"No, Erik, no. And I'll tell you why; your squad and you are a family, in a dangerous situation you should be together and protect each other. Punishment is for them too because they allow you to expose yourself to danger by getting ahead of the line of exploration instead of sticking with the rest. If you have to learn, they too. And now go back to your squad; They must be in his Sdkfz.250." He gestures with his hand for me to walk away. You'll want to keep inspecting your maps.

I walk away from the NCO after saying goodbye with another martial salute.

Now let's see, why being in the unit that is going to explore first is so bad. My unit is a Gepanzerte Aufklärungs, that means that we are a mechanized infantry unit but dedicated to exploring and batting the surroundings of the company we are going with.

It's a small unit, but we have to cover enough area for the rest of the company to feel safe with us. To put it another way; we are the 'prinks' who are ahead, but even ahead of the panzers. We are the spearhead. We mark targets and threats, trails and pitfalls and potential pitfalls so the rest of the company can move forward safely.

We are an important part of the company but we are still a very small part.

My unit consists of six squads each with their Sdkfz half-track transport. 250.

At the same time the command, which is made up of the Feldwebel Haare and his two assistants, have the same transport, only that the MG-42 was replaced by a Pak 36 gun, or what is the same, a 37 mm anti-tank gun. The same one that destroyed the quadruped tank that I found in the forest yesterday.

My squad is made up of the most diverse characters that you can throw at your face. There is one who is not even from our country, 'my new country.' It is from a neighboring country that was hit by this enemy before ours and was offered asylum. This person denied it along with many other citizens of this neighboring country and asked to join our glorious armed forces in their place so they could take revenge. Which we accept, it is always good to have more soldiers.

Well we have Kurt Schreiber, Unteroffizier, the "boss" of our squad.

Then we have Friedrich Kalt, Obersoldat, Kurt's assistant and the most ass-licking person you have ever seen.

Next up is Uwe Berger, Soldat, a quiet guy but also a gun enthusiast; he was very angry when they gave him the infantry weapon and it was not an assault rifle.

He is followed by Johann Krauss, Soldat, he is the typical guy who does not shut up even under water; which is a problem when you are in the front line or ahead of it and you have to be silent. He is the person who receives the most blows and reprimands not only from Kurt or Feldwebel Haase but from the rest of the squad.

Now it's my trench and fatigue colleague's turn: Eugen Koll, he's a pretty normal guy, although that's only when I'm alone with him; if we are the rest of the squad or the platoon Eugen becomes the life of the party, trying to make everyone feel comfortable. I don't know why he does this.

Finally there is me; Erik Hozzel, Gefreiter, there should be at least one other with my rank but apparently not in my squad. I have little to say about myself. You will get to know me.

I appear in front of my squad, soon Eugen welcomes me. As soon as the rest hears my arrival, they leave the half-track and the tent to greet me.

"Look who's back. The prodigal son." Johann exclaims with his usual big mouth.
"Johann. Don't overdo it, Erik has just come back from the hospital wounded by some very ugly wounds, I wonder if you have even survived it." Kurt answers.
"Johann wouldn't have had that problem because he wouldn't have gotten ahead of the rest of the crowd." Friedrich interjects. Since I'm grabbing the attention of the person whose ass lick he can't help but mess with me.
"I'm glad you're back, Erik. I need your advice on some things. After dinner we talked." This was Uwe. Thanks to the memories of my previous life I can repair and / or tinker with electronic or mechanical devices. Together with the training we receive in army training I am able to modify weapons without exploding later. This is the reason why Uwe took a liking to me and maybe even respect. For his beloved weapons.
"Hi again team. Sorry for the delay."
"It's not your fault, it's nature's fault." Friedrich answers jokingly. I give him a threatening look, for calling me a moron.
"Or your mother, it couldn't be very smart to go from here to there being just a nurse." Johann answers trying to be funny. I would punch his face. In fact the original owner of the body would not have doubted it. I ignore this impulse and simply dispel his doubt about my mother by making use of Erik's memories.
"Well, no. My mother, Paula, was a Sturzkampfflugzeug. And she disappeared during the evacuation operation. But thanks for reminding me, Johann." I lower my head and pretend a bit of grief. The truth is that it was a shame that he hadn't been able to meet her and only had her in Erik's memories.
"Oh. Sorry, Erik, I didn't mean to. I did not know." Johann responds alarmed and embarrassed by what he had just said.
"You couldn't, I never told you about my parents. And now we're going to have dinner. I'm hungry."

Dinner was nothing remarkable, the same dubiously edible soup as every day; supposedly tested by someone who must know the subject as a balanced meal with the necessary nutrients to continue fighting.

We finished dinner and we all went to sleep and regain strength, since tomorrow we will go to advance the rest to explore the front.

I undressed and put my belongings in a corner of the tent, then folded the spare inner shirt and tucked it under my head to serve as a pillow. I closed my eyes and began to dream. And because of everything that had happened to me today I dreamed of the strange day when I came to this world.

After waiting almost a year, a manga convention is finally being held in my city. With the pandemic and isolation, all festivities and events were postponed indefinitely.

I get out of bed as soon as the alarm goes off as if I had a spring in my ass that would allow me to leap out from between the sheets.

Today is the day. Today is a day to enjoy, today nothing can go wrong. I quickly get dressed and have breakfast to catch public transportation to the convention site.

Before leaving home I check my equipment one more time.

I have everything ready to go and have a great time. My prepared kit includes an almost empty backpack; to fill it with whatever you can buy at the convention; contains two large bottles of fresh drinking water, a packet of cookies. Besides the backpack I carry; the tickets with the accreditation pendant, the wallet with money; the credit cards and my identification, the keys to my house to be able to re-enter my house and the mobile phone.

I leave my house excited for the day ahead.

I reached public transport and, after some interchanges, managed to reach the place where the convention will take place.

There is a queue that reaches almost to the bus stop, I rush to take the place immediately. It is very early yet and it is not as hot as it is expected to be throughout the day, but even so the queue moves fast; Well, I've only been in it for a few minutes and I'm already halfway through it.

In a few more minutes he managed to reach the head of the queue, some organization people were stationed at the door of the enclosure to prevent anyone from sneaking in. They carry some devices that look like barcode readers, I take out my tickets and notice how they have a printed barcode. When they got to the door they asked me for my tickets, I handed them over and the readers passed over both of them; after checking something on their cell phones they nod and give me a green plastic bracelet. The bracelet has a closure in such a way that once it is fastened you can no longer remove the bracelet without breaking it.

Once inside the enclosure I keep the tickets in my wallet so that they can serve as proof in the future just in case.

I begin to walk around the area to recognize the environment and all the buildings in the enclosure.

I have arranged to meet a colleague within the premises, but due to work issues, he will join after lunch.

I found some of the shops for figurines, patches and other anime merchandise.

I lose myself among her looking at each object for sale to choose the one that I like or attract the most.

After some time of exploration I stop for a moment to drink water, something catches my attention. One of my favorite anime series has an entire booth, although it seems to be ignored by people. That mainstreamers, they are carried away by the fashions of the moment. When I finish drinking water, I go to that stand. As soon as I get to the material display cabinets I cannot avoid sticking my face on them, the clerk catches my attention and I ask him about a specific object that he does not have in the display cabinet. The boy's face lights up, I must be the first to ask him for something like that. Then he asks me to wait a moment and goes to what could be called "back store."

Then I feel a prick in my chest, followed by a small migraine more like the feeling of headache and stupor than when you are under the influence of alcohol and hangover at the same time.

I feel nauseous, then lose my balance and fall to the ground. After nothing. Everything went black.

At some point in the night I wake up and roll over in bed to find another more comfortable position and continue sleeping. No light enters through the window of the room that is now at the foot of the bed, I do not give it importance and go back to sleep.

. . .

My smart phone alarm sounds, I'm going to get hold of the device when I realize that yesterday I didn't take it out of my backpack. Even with my eyes half open, I roll over in bed, trying to uncover as little as possible; I reach out and grab the backpack.

I start to stretch. I lie back on the bed, but this time on my side to handle the bag. I lazily reach for my backpack and extract a bottle of water from it to quench my morning thirst.

After a few minutes of being lazy, still lying on the bed, I gather up my courage and uncover so I can dress myself in the clothes that were spread out on the blanket.

Once dressed I go to the kitchen to have breakfast ... I leave my room and turn into the hall to find a wall, where the hallway leading to the kitchen was supposed to be there was a wall. Why? There should be a hallway right here, which should lead to the kitchen.

Instead the corridor continued in the opposite direction, then it had a left turn and seemed to continue down the corridor. This was not my house, it did not seem like a dream to me; but that's what happens with dreams; They don't seem like it until you wake up. I go back to my room, now that I look at it, it's not my room either, it looks old and somewhat neglected; more than my own royal room; the floor is made of wood, not platform like in my real house.

The walls have a "vintage" tone wallpaper, no, seriously the style of this room is older than my grandparents room. There are pictures on the walls that I have never seen before, I look at my bed and see that it is clearly not my bed.

However, on the mattress is a blanket that looks a lot like mine and propped against the leg of the bed is what looks like my backpack. However there is no sign of the computer, my bookshelves, my books or my miniatures.

I open the backpack and check inside, everything seems normal.

I zip the backpack and put it behind my back. Then, fearful but excited by the exploration, I turn the corner of the hall that leads out of my new room. The hallway continues for a few meters before leading to what looks like stairs down.

Before reaching the stairs there are two doors, they are not exactly opposite each other but they are quite close. I approach the closest one and open the door without warning but standing on the opposite side of the opening, letting the door itself cover me, and I look inside through the slot left by the door on the hinge side. Too many video games, I know, but it's my dream and I can do whatever I want.

I finish opening the door and enter the room, sticking quickly to the wall to avoid a possible attack from behind. The room is empty. It contains a double bed and is decorated with round pictures on the wall of the headboard of the bed. Two of these pictures contain photographs, there is one of a man on one side on the head of the bed and another of a woman on the opposite side of the headboard from the bed. The photos look old and what's more, they are in black and white; well; in yellowish white and black.

Right next to me there is a dresser with several drawers, I don't know what I can find useful in a dresser other than underwear. But my gamer soul forces me to search every corner of the room for loot.

The expected; boxer shorts, panties and socks. I leave everything as I found it, if in the near future I need something then I will come back for some.

I leave the room and repeat the process with the other room. It is just a warehouse, there are towels and sheets, there is also a small and modest medicine cabinet.

Discouraged by the bland loot under the stairs thinking on the one hand that there may be on the lower floor and on the other how uncomfortable it must be to have to go down the stairs when you are peeing in the middle of the night. Why isn't there a bathroom upstairs?

I just went down the first flight of stairs, now turn to the left again and continue down, I stand on this small landing crouched down while I check both the silence and the room that opens just behind the bars of the stair handrail and where they end the steps of the very ladder I'm on.

Again, many video games. But if it weren't for them, I wouldn't know how to act cautiously.

After a few seconds I start the descent again, when I reach the bottom of the stairs I cover myself with one of the doors as a parapet as I did before on the upper floor and I observe the rest of the room with my back covered.

It is a corridor that leads to a hall located just below the stairs with a door that opens onto the street. It is a very compact house from what I am seeing.

Next to the door of the hall there is a door duly disguised with the same wood that covers the walls of the access corridor, that door must be from a cupboard located under the stairs; another way to take advantage of space in a compact home. On the other side, and again not exactly opposite the cupboard, there was another door. I quickly glance behind me through the slot that the door leaves with the frame on the hinge side, the room behind me is the kitchen so the other door must be the living room; every good house should have a living room.

Without thinking twice and with hunger clenching my stomach, I enter the newly discovered kitchen. I scan walls, table and stove several times to avoid leaving something but, no, it is completely empty.

Discouraged, I leave the kitchen and prepare to search the living room. I open the door repeating the procedure, then I look through the slot and finally I enter the room. The room does not seem empty, it seems ransacked; the table in the living room has the cloth tablecloth that once should have been white, soft and smooth, now it is yellowish and frayed; it is collected, or rather set aside and stacked on one side of the table to make room for some wooden boxes whose planks were now almost undone by time and humidity. The chairs are thrown on both sides of the table. Across the living room is a brick fireplace and a low table with two rocking chairs on either side of the table. It must be where the two habitual tenants of the house have tea, coffee, chocolate, or got drunk; the same as the photos on the wall of the room with the double bed on the upper floor.

Wherever I look, I don't see any electrical appliances, radio, stereo or television. I don't know what the couple who lived in the house would do to pass the time. Although considering how abandoned the house looked, probably all the electronic devices in the house were possibly stolen or the owners of the house took them with them when they left.

Seeing that there is nothing useful to get out of this part of the room, I go to the table with the ragged tablecloth, I had some wooden boxes on it; they will contain something.

I look at one of the boxes, now that I notice it; I have to pick up the box and drag it to the edge of the table so I can see what's inside. Am I shorter now or does it only look so to me? Anyway, what difference does it make: dreams are always rare.

The box contains cans, cans of what looks like canned food. There are also jars with what looks like fruits and some meat and fish, however there are few; the box must have held at least four times as many. It must also be said that the jars that are in poor condition, the same cannot be said of the cans, but namely, how they are closed you will not know until you open them.

In the other box there is a kind of cylindrical container and what is left of two firearms. And I say what remains because despite not knowing about weapons, they were in terrible condition.

I take one of the weapons, it's an MP-40 or what's left of it, I don't know how; but I can know what it is exactly, what happens to it and how to fix it with parts of the other weapon that is also of the same model. I don't know if the person who put this box on this table had the same idea as me and wanted to fix one of the weapons or if the box contained more weapons and they already took the ones that did work. With a speed and mastery that would only make sense if this were a dream I disassemble the two weapons and completely reassemble a single submachine gun with the parts of both weapons. Then, without thinking, I open the cylindrical container by unscrewing one of the end caps and dump its contents in the now empty bottom of the weapons box. Bullets, dozens of them and all of the same caliber. I take a few with my right hand and begin to load them into the magazine of one of the two MP-40s, fill one magazine, and start with the other. Then I slide one of the magazines into its slot and cock the gun.

I don't know why but with a gun in my hands I feel more comfortable, not safe, but comfortable. I've never used a gun, I swear. In my country weapons are prohibited unless you have a weapons license or belong to the police or the army. Despite this, I have the strange feeling that I can handle the weapon in almost any situation, fix it like a few seconds ago and maintain it as if it were mine or as if I had had previous training.

One idea that came to mind was to glue or somehow join the two chargers to make the recharge faster, but why waste time on that? I will walk out the door of this house and wake up, or that or take a walk around the neighborhood and sooner or later I will wake up.

I took the gun, it had no restraints or strap, so I had to carry it directly in my hands, I put the other magazine in one of the pockets of the jacket and fill the cylinder with the remaining bullets, then I put it in the pocket where the bottle of water, which I placed in another compartment inside the backpack.

Finally I put the backpack back on my back and opened the door to the street with one hand while holding the submachine gun with the other.

The sun colored the sky in an orange tone, it is curious that in the dream it was sunset; clearly they were the colors in which the sky turns at sunset.

Well, it doesn't matter, it's a dream.

I leave the house with a determined air and without knowing what the future will bring me, I felt a little hungry but I decided to ignore it; I knew that they were signals from my subconscious that warned me of the urge to go to the bathroom, hunger or cold even when I was dreaming but I would have time to calm my hunger when I woke up.

The house was surrounded by a low wooden fence, made of planks. A very beautiful work, varnished with a dark varnish that together with the details of flowers engraved on the wood really gave it a very picturesque air.

Right in front of the house was a path with thick stone tiles to avoid stepping on the grass, which had grown wild and now the garden looked like a meadow spot.

I don't know how it was before but now it was clearly neglected, unused and overgrown.

I opened the gate of the fence, I almost stayed with the gate latch in hand, the passage of time in complete abandonment of the place led to a complete deterioration of the gate itself and all its parts.

I carefully opened the small door, gently pushing it to one side.

I could already see the street from the front door of the house before leaving it, but feeling the outside directly was quite another thing. The street also showed good deterioration, was fractured every few meters into irregular structures, had some craters and what looked like burn marks.

I walk down the street aimlessly but trying to remember the path followed. Not that it matters much since I will wake up at some indeterminate moment but it is something I already do out of habit.

I continue my walk through the ruined and abandoned streets of this picturesque and unknown town.

. . .

Not; now seriously; I'm hungry, thirsty and a little sleepy. Being thirsty or hungry in a dream is not usual but it can happen. But you cannot be sleepy in a dream because the body is already in a state of total relaxation.

I'm going back to the house I left from. Everything remains the same. Nothing has changed even a little, well a little yes; the sun has completely hidden on the horizon and now it is night, it is also cold.

I'm starting to get a little anxious, I need to wake up, I've had enough of this. I have to wake up, have breakfast and prepare the equipment for Monday to go to work.

Then an idea crosses my mind, I am not very funny because the fact of self-injury has never seemed normal to me.

The idea is the following; Since the brain is designed to re-activate or deactivate when the body suffers a shock, I will try to force one of those shocks to force awakening.

I went back into the house and closed the door behind me, then I put my things on the floor next to the door that had just closed and ran without thinking to the other side of the hall, the (bad) idea was to run against the wall and head hitting the wall in the hope that it would do enough damage to activate the brain's re-activation processes.

I ran without thinking to the wall and without stopping, I lowered my head slightly so that the frontal lobe hit the wall. It worked, I felt the rush of adrenaline and endorphins secreted by the lymphatic system to mitigate pain upon impact and then the world went black.

. . .

I opened my eyes and the first thing I felt was not sleep or relief, but a tremendous pain coming from my forehead. I tried to stand up to find out where I was, I turned around on myself, staring at the ground; a dark wood floor blackened by time and neglect.

I tried to get to my feet but my balance failed me and I fell to the ground before I could fully stand up.

So I crawled up the stairs to sit there and try to think why I hadn't woken up after such a tremendous blow.

After a few minutes and, applying Occam's razor, I came to the conclusion that no matter how unlikely and strange the situation was, yesterday I lay in my bed and my house and today I had woken up in another bed in another house and I knew where there was that house.

Wait, I didn't get to bed yesterday, did I? What's going on? The only clear thing was that he was now stranded in a place he knew nothing about.

I spent a few minutes cursing and throwing all the insults that I knew to vent to such an unfortunate situation.

And now… Now he had to decide what to do next.

Something shakes me gently but forcefully at the same time, I don't know how to explain it well but it is soft enough not to hurt me but energetic enough to wake me up. I open my eyes in a daze and in the darkness I can make out the figure of Eugen trying to wake me up.

Again, again I have dreamed of the traumatic day when I arrived in this strange world. That I still don't know why it is so familiar to me.

I prepare properly for the new day. I take my weapons and leave the store, our tireless traveling companion is already waiting for us there; Eber; the SdKfz.250. I board the vehicle with my brothers in arms and let it take me to the area that we must explore today.