The rifle is more than enough

I take a seat at the back of the half-track, settle down, and press my back against the closet back. The driver pulls off Eber and we begin a journey to the front line.

The rattle coupled with the dream of having recently woken up makes my eyelids heavy and I start to nod. At some point I must have closed my eyes, for I feel another jolt; This time it is more energetic and when I open my eyes I see my commanding officer in the face; Kurt.

"Have we arrived yet, Herr Unteroffizier?"
"Yes, now wake up and get out of Eber. I know you are sleepy. We are all sleepy. But I need you all to be very attentive. Reports say this area is riddled with enemies. I am not going to allow you to die for some nonsense." Kurt answers in an almost fatherly tone. The truth is that the leadership style of each commanding officer is often transmitted throughout the chain, making all officers and NCOs more or less equal in their troop leadership.
"Yes, Herr Unteroffizier." That said, I yawn with great force and try to stretch myself to be ready for a possible fight. To tell the truth, combat with the enemy terrifies me, the mere fact of having to take up a weapon to save life is a "complicated" feeling, but the fact of having to take lives with it is a different matter. I do not know in what state I will end the war, if I can end it.
"I like it that way. Pair up with Eugen and go to sector four. Then wait for orders."
"Verstanden Herr Unteroffizier."

I stepped off Eber, with a dry, rhythmic sound, my possessions bouncing off each other as I slammed off the half-track.

Uwe is smoking a cigar. He likes to smoke tobacco before being deployed behind the lines; Helps you let go of stress. Personally I hate tobacco smoke but I know that due to its "therapeutic" properties it is supplied to officers and noncommissioned officers so that they distribute it or not among their subordinates and thus keep them more focused or use them as a reward.

I don't know what I'll do with tobacco if I become a noncommissioned officer. If Uwe is still with me, I'll still give it to him.

Uwe is happy with the calibration I did yesterday, nothing too complicated. You just had to clean the mechanism but the last time you did it you did not reassemble it as it should and it sounded weird when you shoot and reload.

I pass Uwe and pat him on the shoulder, he nods in consideration and continues on my way to Eugen; who waits for me patiently sitting on a large stone looking over the horizon full of trees. As soon as I appear in his field of vision he smiles and steps down from his makeshift observation post.

"It was time. I thought I would have to camp on that rock." Eugen announces with a serious tone but keeping his smile.
"You would have liked it. Much. I know you, Eugen Koll, and I know how glad you would have stayed to live on that rock." I answer him making my own smile.
"It could be, but wouldn't you have come to live with me, Erik Hozzel?" He replies with a sarcastic tone.
"Maybe, but Herr Unteroffizier would have thrown our house down so we could go to the front."
"Make no mistake about it." Kurt responds who was approaching us to go to his own sector. "It is my duty to make you fight." He adds, smiling at both of us. "And now go to your positions." You know how things are going. Every couple in their sector and we move forward online until we find something that makes us have to stop.

We nodded and hurried to occupy our sector.

Eugen and I go to our designated sector and as soon as Kurt gives the order we begin to move in line, combing an area about five or six hundred meters wide.

Now our job is to scan this new piece of land for any unpleasant surprises the enemy may have left to hinder our advance.

Theoretically, if we find something that explodes we have to warn the sappers. But between the time someone is sent to the camp to warn them, wait for them to form the group that will come here, to come and to deactivate or blow up whatever it is, four or five hours can pass quietly. It's quicker to blow it up ourselves and then come up with something to tell Feldwebel Haase.

After two hours of walking, my shoulders start to hurt, the weight of the equipment is no joke. My feet also bother me a bit, but in that aspect I can still hold out a little longer.

Little by little I begin to have a feeling of insecurity that grows more and more, and it is not for less; because little by little we are getting more and more into enemy territory.

Every time I remember my father, well, Erik's father, a feeling of sadness invades me and I have not technically seen him in my life. The truth is that the more time I spend in this 'world' the more I forget about my previous life. It's the little details. I no longer remember the face of the woman who brought me into the world, but I am able to "remember" everything about the woman who gave birth to Erik.

It's strange. I am impersonating him. It seems that I am eating her life but in reality it is the other way around; her life is devouring me. Soon I'll be just Erik Hozzel.

This situation makes me very nervous, it is as if I had been sent here to live the life of another in the first person. But why? For what purpose?

There were so many things that I didn't understand, maybe this was even a Matrix, but that means that if I die here I also die in the "real" world.

So I decided to hold on to the few memories that remained of my previous life and try to assimilate those of my host; Erik.

Why does everything have to be so weird? Why can't I just live a peaceful life?

Something taps against my helmet, when I turn my head to try to identify the source I see my partner Eugen.

"What's wrong Erik? You are scattered. You know that these missions require concentration. Any detail counts. Pay more attention."
"Yes, sorry Eugen. I was thinking of my family." Technically what he had just said was not false.
"Yes… We all think about family. Johann sometimes doesn't feel as tactful as he should. But surely he does not do it with bad intention."
"It's not that, Eugen, I already know Johann. I know how it is. I know that he does not do it to hurt, it is simply that the comment made me remember that apart from me; the rest of my family is missing. Only that."
"Don't worry Erik, you know that witches never die." As part of the propaganda there was a popular belief that praised witches who gave their lives in the act of service. This belief or practice was to consider all witches as MIA instead of KIA to reinforce the praise of their figures in the people and to use their images to boost the morale of the army. I understand but let's be honest, they were reported missing. At this point in the conflict we can consider that my parents, well Erik's, are dead.
"If that's the least of Eugen. I hardly know my mother. She was only with me for the first five years, then she returned to active duty with her squad. On the other hand, my father was considered low and I spent my fifteen years of life with him."
"Sixteen, we've already talked about it. You are sixteen, if someone in command finds out that you lied at your age to enter the army they will send you to Neue Karlsland until you get the age."
"Ahh… Yes, you're right. Well, I can always say that the year of training at the Heer I was separated from Vater and with that I make sixteen."
"Better. But don't forget." Eugen was a friend from the neighborhood where Erik lived. He is a year older than Erik. But, despite everything they always took care of each other.
"Thanks Eugen." I answer him with a smile. Whenever I am sad, either because of my situation or because of the situation induced by Erik; Eugen makes me happy and comforts me in some way.
"You're welcome, comrade. But why?"
"For everything."

After a slightly awkward silence we simply continued to move forward in silence. By the end of the morning we had managed to clear about five kilometers of forest.

The further we went into the dense forests of Karelia the more our stress increased. The enemy could appear anytime and anywhere.

It was a stressful situation, but not like college or an end-of-year exam.

No, it was a stressful environment, it made it difficult for you to breathe, it produced fatigue, insomnia, various psychological illnesses, paranoid persecutory disorder, bad mood and; especially; fear.

We were all afraid, some more than others. No one can or dares to deny it. Some cope very well with the problem, others rely on their peers and others simply build a facade of superficiality superiority to try to camouflage the harsh reality. Everyone was scared, from the newest to the most veteran.

Trying to deny it would be not only stupid, but futile.

I was no exception. In fact my case could not be much more pronounced. I did know the story that was about to happen, I knew what had happened on the eastern front during the Second World War. I knew what was coming now.

There were some aspects of my new world that did not quite square me, but after joining the German army and receiving a Kar98 all my doubts were dispelled.

Although recently there have been some events that seem to clash with what I know or knew about that war.

Things like the encounter with that quadruped tank or the existence of magic. There is something wrong. But it all seems so familiar that I don't know what to think about.

We had finished our task in the morning and we were getting ready to eat together with the other teams or Gruppen of our company. It was much easier to organize an effective defense if we had more troops and all the half-tracks in the peloton.

The food couldn't be more disgusting. Well yeah, but it would be straight shit.

I know they say it contains everything we could possibly need to fight but they could have put some extra attention to the taste. I think that some floorboards will have more flavor than the toasts they gave us to replace bread.

The meal happened without any mishap. Some of us hurried to finish eating so that we could lie down inside the half-tracks or take the position of the heavy machine gun on the rack, others simply seemed to slow down; Like they're trying to hold the moment forever.

As soon as the team noncommissioned officers finished eating the contemplations were over, they ordered each of the teams to resume their examination of the front.

As punishment for the quadruped tank, my team would be the spearhead of the hunt. Being the furthest from the rest of the group and being more exposed.

As the sun began to go down we heard a hurtful sound as well as terrifying. It was like a terribly sharp scratch, like the sound of a blade scratching against ceramic or glass. Immediately afterwards, the sounds of gunfire and explosions began to be heard, Kurt ordered us to retreat to support the teams that were currently in combat.

We ran to Eber, boarded him, and our trusty half-track led us as quickly as he could to where the combat was currently taking place.

The guys on my team were ecstatic, they had the idea of combat too idealized.

Kurt gave me a small yellow pill. Then he offered me his canteen, combat drugs, this could only mean one thing; the combat that awaited us would be intense and it was necessary for everyone to focus on fighting. I, or rather Erik was a daydreamer so Kurt gave me the combat drug.

I take the pill, put it in my mouth, and then drink from Kurt's canteen. I swallow and return the canteen to Kurt.

Then I took my rifle and started to check all its mechanism, it was not the best situation for it to fail due to lack of maintenance.

I check every millimeter of its mechanism. Observing my close inspection, Uwe begins to review his and in a few more seconds the rest of the team is also following my example to prepare for combat.

The truth is that nothing I do can prepare me for my first fight. But it was better than just waiting idly for the drug Kurt gave me to take effect.

After finishing the inspection I start to feel like I can 'see' the air. I'm high, a lot.

I could feel how my heart was going to a thousand. It was not an unpleasant sensation if you did not know that it was the effect of a drug. Unfortunately basic education had given me sufficient knowledge about drugs and their effect. I knew that what I was feeling was not natural but I had to focus on the current fight I was going to have.

Eber arrived at the place of combat, where the second team's half-track was parked; a sign that the said team could not go very far.

Kurt orders us to get off Eber and go to the place where the sounds of explosions, machine guns and simple shots come from.

We get out of our transport and run like hungry, drooling wolves into battle, in a pack. A drugged herd but a herd nonetheless. Eber is soon left behind. Where we are going it cannot follow us, the dense forest prevents the half-track from entering.

In a time that felt like a sigh but surely must have been a long ten or fifteen minutes we reached the combat zone.

It was when my second encounter with the enemy occurred. This time they were humanoid figures that levitated a few inches above the ground, albeit occasionally alighting. To move from one side to the other they levitated, but as soon as they reached the place they had designated as their destination they landed on the ground.

The strange figures seemed to have been taken from some video game of the eighties or nineties but with colors similar to those of the "tank" of the other time.

They had strange protrusions where their hands must have been, shooting out what looked like a stream of shrapnel.

"Chain rifle, really?" The similarity made me exclaim aloud.

According to Erik's field manual we must shoot them in the chest, there was something in the chest that acted as a heart and brain at the same time and by destroying it we destroyed the entity itself.

As the Kar98 was so powerful, a single, accurate shot to the chest from these strange creatures should be enough to end their pathetic existence.

Uwe begins to shoot at the creatures but his aim leaves much to be desired, as he shoots them first in the head and then in the chest.

We find that shooting them in the head is worthless. It must be just aesthetic. The enemy must try to mimic their units as human so that the psychological impact of destroying them is greater than if they had a more amorphous form.

I can only think of that reason why they have that shape.

Kurt empties a magazine in about half a minute firing a single bullet at each enemy, destroying five in the process. Right now Kurt is efficiency personified, soon the whole team follows his example and we manage to destroy the enemies that harass the second team.

They fall back with us. They thank us for coming to their aid.

We turn around to retreat to the transports, there are no enemies in sight so it is the safest time to do so, I start running alongside my companions when something seems to enter my line of sight, I turn around.

Wait, if I had to turn around I can't have seen it. However there is one, let's call it intuition that tells me that there is another group of enemies approaching our position; if we simply run we will all or almost all die. You have to stay here and fight. Now I know where to shoot.

I have eight magazines left, plus the one already inside my rifle, I also have two grenades; but I was never a very good pitcher.

That's when I advanced to the defensive position that the second team had maintained until mine arrived.

There are still some chargers on the ground, I pick them up; now I have three more chargers. I do the math, eleven magazines of five rounds each, the one for my weapon is already used so there are actually ten magazines of five rounds and one with three.

Fifty-three rounds for twenty-eight enemies, enough.

I shake my head slightly when I realize my own calculations, I try to dig deeper but I can't waste anymore time. They are already here, I cannot see them, but again I can sense where they are; I start to open fire. I use Erik's training to change the magazine quickly to avoid wasting time.

Thanks to the excellent precision of the rifle as well as its scope, when I start to see them with my own eyes there are only eight left.

Seeing how they get closer I start to get nervous, maybe the effect of the pill that Kurt gave me has already passed. My pulse trembles, practically all the bullets in a magazine fail, forcing me to replace it with another.

The strange figures start to shoot their jets of shrapnel at me and I have to lie down to avoid being killed, then rollover to change position.

On second thought, I think it is time to use a grenade, if I just appear above my cover I will die, if I change position I will die but only a few seconds later.

I take one of my two grenades and, following Erik's memories, I remove the rope safety located at the other end of the rope and then throw it over my cover without poking my head, I count to five and before completing the count a tremendous explosion shakes the ground.

Now there are three humanoid creatures left. Still they can easily finish me off.

I roll more on the ground to change position, covering the uniform with dirt.

I stick my head out of my new position, shoulder my rifle, and aim at the first of the dupes still staring at my old position. I pull the trigger and nothing happens just a metallic click sounds instead.

The three figures turn their heads towards me, as if they could really see from them.

"Scheisse…"

With the previous nervousness he had not finished reloading the rifle. I said goodbye to my ass and closed my eyes expecting some pain.

Luckily I was not forced to abandon this shot, since three shots hit the three figures directly; right in the chest. I hear the shots and open my eyes. Moments later they shattered as if made of sand or ash.

I look in the direction the enemies came from, again I don't know how but I know there are no more.

I lie on my back on the dirt floor from the defensive position while I wait for my teammates.

I hear footsteps in the distance. I am happy, I have survived. But I also start to think about what I have done. Technically I have disobeyed the withdrawal order.

As soon as Kurt reaches my position I stand up and stand at attention, waving. His face is concerned rather than angry.

"I am prepared to take whatever punishment I see fit, but first I want you to hear my reasons for disobeying the withdrawal order."
"Okay, let's listen to them." Kurt looked like he was going to say something when I cut him off with my request. I'm not sure what that would mean, but as the officer in charge of the team, I couldn't let this foul go by.
"While we were retreating I noticed that there was something wrong with the enemy formation. The enemy had left a hole in their formation on purpose. This could mean two things; one that there was a group of stragglers and the other that they were trying to make a clamp. Both options were bad since there was a part of the enemy formation that still needed to attack. If someone did not present combat, we could not withdraw."
"It was well seen and thought about Gefreiter, but then. Why didn't you notify your commanding officer instead of acting on your own?"
"It would have been slower Herr Unteroffizier."
"Let's go back to the camp, there I will discuss with the superiors what will be their punishment."
"Yes Herr Unteroffizier"

We boarded Eber again, for some reason I felt great shame. It must be the fault of Erik's training, I didn't think he had done something so serious; In fact, if I didn't stay to fight, it would have been more than possible that no one had ever returned from here.

Still I felt that I should be punished for what I did. Damn square heads Germans.

Throughout the return trip, I strived to fulfill the role that Erik's previous training had given me and I did not raise my head at any time, enhancing the image of shame that I could project in those moments.

At the camp they ordered me to disembark and follow my Unteroffizier who, together with the Unteroffizier from the other Gruppe, were led to the tent where the Feldwebel Haase was waiting; leader of our platoon, Oberst Mauss; commander of the thirty-third Panzergrenadier regiment and finally General der Panzertruppen Von Saucken; head of the entire fourth company. In my life, and in Erik's life, I had seen so much command together in the same place.

Once there and as soon as I was aware of the identities of the people inside the store, I stood up and made a military salute typical of the academy that Erik had passed through. Feldwebel Haase instructed me to retell my little skirmish in that corner of that forest north of Lake Ladoga.

The command listened to my story without saying a word or trying to interrupt me.

Finally when I was done, the commanders started arguing amongst themselves; I could hear things like medal, promotion, intransigence and even punishment.

After waiting for almost an hour they gave me the verdict.

I was going to be recommended for a promotion, but because of my actions I was going to be punished as well; having to stay on base without moving and with the rations reduced by half for a week.

In and of itself it wasn't a bad punishment, but due to the intrepid nature of my host, being cut off from my team and lines for a week was going to result in a tremendous pain in the ass.

For my part, I was used to staying in one place with little physical activity for more than one or two months due to university and, later, to work.

Instead Erik in the prime of his life simply wanted to go out and walk or run as much as he could, being locked up and unable to move from the place would be complete torture for my host.

As for the reduction of rations; well, the fact of being on base without leaving your store would make you not spend more energy than the account, so eating half was within the calculation. On the other hand, not being forced to eat all that amount of slop a day for a week could even be considered a gift.

Today has been a very long day, so I go to sleep with the idea that tomorrow I will have to stay in my tent without being able to move for at least a week.

The only good part is that as my 'confinement' period ends, because we don't really have confinement cells or jails here in the front, I will be promoted to Obergefreiter. According to the manual, it is a slight increase in salary and little more, because you continue to have the same responsibilities as right now.

I think I will use my downtime to maintain my weapons and those of my companions. I already asked Herr Feldwebel Haase about it and he assured me that there would be no problem.

I will also use the time I spend here on the basis when my colleagues are deployed to try to figure out why this 'world' does not quite fit the story that I know but still feel so familiar.