Now yes
Another day, another damn day of getting up later than the rest, another damn day that I have to waste being locked up in camp. It's not like I can't leave, but if I do, they'll throw me out of the army with dishonor.
If I want to climb the ladder, I must endure this punishment; although it is not as hard as it would seem or as it should be. Under normal conditions I think he should have been physically punished and confined for this week in some dark and damp hole with little or no food.
That was what I knew from Erik's memoirs, that while they denoted a better fate than that of the Panzergrenadiers of my world; he would simply have been shot for insubordination.
I left my shop dressed and ready for my little Maschinengewehrschütze course, yes, a very long and complicated name; It is what has that the Karlslanders are spiritual heirs of the Germans.
I take my MG42, my new 'work tool', a pair of magazines that I filled last night with 7.92 bullets, I carry it on my shoulder; it is somewhat heavier than my Kar98 but not so much; and I go to the dining room.
Once there, breakfast; half of what it should. And thank goodness, because today's slop looked like something between vomit and diarrhea. I just had breakfast and I washed myself in the well. There is a queue, about twelve soldiers wait their turn to wash themselves with the water drawn from the well.
During the queue there are people who take the opportunity to socialize, there are people from various sections of the army and the division.
As the queue advances, more soldiers join the wait, I hear younger voices talking about such trivial things as food; wishing tomorrow is better; pfff ... Numskulls, it will never be better, it may be worse but it will never be better. They also talk about girls, I guess it's age. Although they must not have much stimulus here in the front, and I have not seen any witch yet. The biggest tank battle in history is supposed to be fought around this time, and I don't see many tanks around here, so I suppose they will be ground witches; but the fact is that I have not seen any in all the time I've been here.
While I am lost in my thoughts a familiar voice brings me back to reality, my current sad reality.
I recognize one of the voices. It is the broadcast Gefreiter I met yesterday when I was trying to find out about Erik's mother.
I have to stop thinking in the third person, if I continue like this it is possible that sometime I will say it out loud and knowing myself, a situation like this cannot end well.
Although I knew I would lose my place in line, already close to gaining access to water, I wanted to satisfy my curiosity with what they had found about Erik's mother. No, about my mother.
I left the line and rejoined at the boy's height in the queue.
"Hello again."
"Ah. Hello." The boy seems surprised, and it is not for less; I'm the only fool who goes around with a MG42 loaded on his shoulder.
"It's not to bother you, but do you already have any information?"
"Not. We can't just call the fleet to inquire about its status without an excuse. Wait patiently, some information about it will eventually arrive." The boy does not seem uncomfortable by my presence or by my questions, he is simply bored of having to wait in this queue to wash himself every day.
"I see …" I let out a hopeless sigh. "More or less often does information about the fleet arrive?"
"Umm." The boy scratches his chin and makes a thoughtful face. "Let's see ..." The last communication was about three weeks ago and before that a month ago. So in a week some more information will arrive. And don't worry, they usually report everything.- He responds with a soothing tone.
"But Zitadelle will begin shortly ... " I answer scared. After he stopped talking, it's not something he should know.
"The what?" Asks the surprised boy.
"Nothing, we will meet again in a week." That said, I turned around hoping that he would not continue with the interrogation.
The queue has moved as we talked more or less to the height it was at before I met this boy. A couple more comfortable, quiet minutes, I already had access to the water to wash up. After finishing, I gave way to young Gefreiter and went to Haase's store, where, as Kurt told me yesterday, I would receive instruction about my new position at the Gruppe.
The instructions were just; Have breakfast, wash up and wait ready for the instructor in Feldwebel Haase's shop.
I got to Haase's now empty store and waited, waited, and waited.
When it had been around twenty minutes, I ended up sitting on a stone.
Just as I was beginning to lose hope that I could meet an instructor in the middle of the war and who was doomed to keep using that bolt-action rifle hulk until the end of the war, a boy with Obersoldat chevrons appeared. carries a box of metal ammunition.
The boy seems to be looking for something or someone, runs from here to there and turns his head several times. When he reaches the height of the tent, he stops short and begins to turn slowly until his gaze is focused on me, then he turns pale.
In a few seconds he recovers and approaches me.
"Hi, I'm Obersoldat Ruoff, Gustaf Ruoff. I'll be your machine gun assistant."
"Hi boy, " I get up and I am one or two centimeters taller than that boy. "I am the Gefreiter Erik Hozzel. From today I will occupy the position of Maschinengewehrschütze in my Gruppe, well that if I find the instructor." I scratched my head with the receiver of my MG42, I didn't have much more to say.
"Well, the instructor is waiting for us in another area, but they told me that I should come and look for my 'machine gunner'. The instructions are carried out in pairs, it is necessary that there is always a shooter and an assistant." The boy in tons as if he were saying the memory lesson during an oral exam at school.
"Then, take me there. Please."
"With good manners. Yes sir."
The boy motioned for me to follow him through a sea of aligned tents separated from each other by small paths, perfectly aligned with each other as if it were a microprocessor. Little by little we were moving away from the main camp.
A clearing began to show behind the tree line as we approached; more and more information was getting on that clearing.
As soon as we reached the edge of the forest, I could see the entire clearing; it was a meadow with an extension of no more than four kilometers long by three on a side, with some constructions, clearly wooden, strange on it, there were also two Sdkfz 251 Hanomag half-tracks and a dozen soldiers around the half-tracks.
Standing and controlling the situation was a man with gray hair that could be seen by the field cap he was wearing. This man must be the instructor.
As soon as we reached the halfway point, my guide waved to that group of soldiers and the man with gray hair motioned for him to come closer.
Without any hurry, we did not approach the group of soldiers. Upon arrival I noticed the rank of the man with gray hair, Unteroffizier, I squared myself and saluted martially, I stayed in that position until the man with gray hair told me.
It was then that I look around to try to identify my surroundings. All the boys in the clearing looked like they had just come out of the academy, their uniforms were spotless and had a dark color, unlike mine that had already lost its hue after lying on the ground for so long.
"I'm the Unteroffizier Adler Brass. I will be your instructor, I will teach you how to handle your MG in combat situations. I have already told the rest of your classmates, but since you weren't there yet I will repeat it. This is not a regulated training, it is only a period of acclimatization, there is a lot of difference between what is learned in the academy and what is actually done on the battlefield, also the landscape here is nothing like what there was. in the training grounds of the academy. I will teach you to use the terrain in your favor and to move through it efficiently and effectively."
"Jawohl mein Lehrer."
"Good answer. I would like to start immediately. But I have to train these puppies as well." Says the gray-haired man while pointing his thumb back, where the 'spotless uniforms' were." Herr Mauss wants them trained by the end of this week so that they can serve as replacement for several Gruppen."
"Verstanden Herr Brass."
The man turns to the boys who were waiting, leaning, sitting or leaning on the half-tracks. "Everyone to run! I want you to do twenty laps around the perimeter of the training area. It is the area marked with posts."
"I don't know if I'll get tired earlier, Herr Brass, but I prefer to run with my MG, I want to get used to it as soon as possible. If I'm not afraid I want to go back to my old and faithful Kar98."
"Good idea, everyone, get your equipment. You will run only ten laps but you will have to carry your weapons."
I smiled at the picture, I had managed to earn the hatred of a handful of boys and had only just come. What an achievement, I think I have never managed to antagonize someone so fast.
I started running while holding my MG with both hands, I was carrying the MG in much the same way as I was taught to wear the Kar98. Wow, I'm not speaking in the third person anymore; I'm progressing.
"Come on Gustaf, don't stay behind. Show those scones just out of the oven how prepared we are in the front." Another burst of hateful glances nailed my side, coming from the rest of the boys.
"Yes Gefreiter, but I also just 'came out of the oven'."
"Wow, I'm sorry for the pejorative then, Gustaf." I thought you were already from the division, since you managed to find me.
"No, actually I had to ask several times to find you."
"Enough of the chatter, run." Unteroffizier Brass orders.
"Jawohl."
"Jawohl." Gustaf responds following my example.
When I was five laps, Gustaf began to slow down, when he was eight my chest began to burn. In my ninth Lap I had to slow down, my body would not let me any more. For lap 10 I just drop to one knee, put the butt of the MG on the ground and hold onto it to rest.
The instructor ordered us to stop running, as soon as I got my breath back I looked around me; they were all defeated, some boys were lying on the ground, they were scattered all over the track; as if they had been progressively depleted.
The instructor does not seem angry but disappointed, he must have expected more, me too.
Walking slowly he reaches my position.
"Up, soldier, you still have a lot of training to do." I was going to answer something but the old man cuts me off. "No, I don't want to hear excuses." Up now."
In response I get up with some difficulty and put the MG back on my shoulder.
The old man nods and Gustaf, following my example, again rises trembling from the ground.
As soon as we stand at attention the rest also start to get up, some are nauseous, others are red as tomatoes. This instructor is really tough. Something tells me that he comes to train me on the orders of one of the bosses I met the day they gave me my punishment for my punishment and that these guys were simply in the worst place at the least opportune moment.
The old man instructed us to turn around an obstacle course he had prepared in that clearing. That was the strange wooden constructions that he saw in the distance.
The old man wanted us to advance along with our designated partner and when he ordered us to get into a defensive shooting position and wait for the order to attack some targets that he had been placing while we were doing the warm-up laps.
We started jogging towards the first obstacle; an unusually tall barbed wire fence; clearly this was on purpose to force us to cross underneath. Nor do I understand why they keep putting up 'soft' obstacles like these when the enemy does not use tracks and most of their units either levitate or fly, but anyway, when I become an officer, I can still try to change their minds at the command.
We crawled across the ground, slowly, making sure our uniforms didn't catch on any of the sharp spikes.
Then you had to get up and climb a rope, then you had to go down without breaking anything, and this seems easy until you realize that thanks to the equipment you carry now you weigh almost twice as much and that, just as if you just jump your legs you don't withstand the impact against the ground.
The answer is quite simple, so simple that it seems to have a trick. You simply have to train until your legs are able to absorb the shock when loaded.
The first time I fell to the ground I felt tremendous pain in my legs but it soon subsided as the heat of the warm-up helped me keep going.
After going through the obstacle course about five times I hardly noticed the painful impact of the fall. My cargo helper did not seem to be as used to physical exercise as I was, having more than once had to wait for it or help him continue.
At one point the old man orders us to take positions and both my assistant and I lie down on the ground, I quickly put my MG facing the closest visible target, I place one of the two chargers that I already had and cock the weapon, the operation is not as fast as I would like or as fast as the same action in my old Kar98 but still in little more than twenty seconds I have my weapon ready to attack.
I can hear metallic noises around me, the others are still loading their weapons.
A quick glance also tells me that they have stopped in very little defensible places and that they are easy to hit from where the targets are.
The Unteroffizier Bass takes a walk around the area inspecting each of the teams, noting that they have done wrong but also that they have done well. Soon he comes to my position; He blames Ruoff for being so late at the place where I have deployed and soon will start with me.
"Position, good. Loading and preparation time, fine, although I think you can improve" I think so too." Target selected, fine. The only thing that I see wrong is the custom." I look puzzled at the instructor, I don't understand what he means.
"Let me explain. You have deployed your weapon well, but you are still holding it like your old rifle. The MG is not a Kar. You must unfold the bipod and rest it on the ground, then put your left hand on the butt and thus help absorb the recoil of the weapon." The old man explains as if he has been doing this all his life, and judging by the tone he uses to speak to us and its precise movements may well be.
We repeat this unexpected and tired training until it is time to eat, everyone is excited that this is over, I do not have many illusions since it is possible that the cruel old man has planned to leave us without eating, just like it could happen up front.
"Come on, everyone. Pick up your things and go eat. You have two hours, then you will have to come back." To my surprise the old man let us go to eat and not only that, but he gave us two hours for it.
I raise my hand to ask for a voice.
"Yes?" Asks the old man.
"Two hours?" The old man nods. "To eat?" The old man nodded again. "But ..."
"No buts son. It is your first training session, they are also boys fresh out of the academy. I can't treat them like veteran soldiers." The man shrugs, I still can't believe it. The man beckons me to follow him. "Come Gefreiter, accompany me to the dining zone."
I put the safety on my MG, I put it on my shoulder and I follow the old man.
The old man walks slowly but surely, silent all the way to the dining room. Once there, the fastest boys in our training group were already eating all together at a table, as soon as I make an appearance again, their gazes are fixed on me.
I go to the line to pick up the food and meet the man from the other time.
"Wow, so it was true. You change classes. Will you delight us this time with the battle in which you earned this punishment?" As usual this man speaks too loud.
"No, I just want to eat quietly and go back to training."
"Ohh… " The man in the portable kitchen looks disappointed. He does not seem to be enthusiastic about the idea that he is not going to liven up the meal this time.
"What does it have to do with?"
"That apparently you soften with those who are younger than you." Technically he was right, but he was wrong in the fact that everyone present was older than me; since I lied when they recruited me.
"No, well, maybe yes. But I just want to eat, Unteroffizier Brass has given us a good scold."
"Has Brass as your instructor? How lucky, if were Muhlmann, you would be vomiting blood right now."
"In your experience, the Unteroffizier Brass is a good instructor?"
"Yes, in fact I have seen groups formed by both instructors and I have nothing to say regarding the results but if my progeny were to be instructed by Muhlmann, I am sure they would commit some recklessness." The man stopped talking as soon as the old instructor joined the queue.
He served me the food on a plate, to which he added the silverware, I took the plate with the hand that did not carry the MG and went back to the benches.
I leave my MG resting on the side of the table and sit at the same end of it to sit down to eat. As I realize that I did not take the glass for the water, I take out my canteen and put it in front of the plate.
As soon as I pick up the silverware to start eating, the old man sits in front of me.
We eat without speaking until the old man decides to break the silence.
"I want to make this clear before you have strange ideas, I have read your history and it may make sense that I train you but you should know that the one who has really been lucky is you and not those boys. I had already been assigned to this group and they simply requested that I give you the instruction with the puppies since there were no more people willing to do it." I am about to answer but no words come out of my mouth. Fuck Erik, the world doesn't revolve around you.
"What do you mean by my record? I believed that only the commanders would be able to see the history of the soldiers."
"And so it is. But they told me you were a special case and I wanted to know to what extent. So I asked for a few favors and got your service card."
"Ughh… " It was more of a growl, but growling at a superior would have been very bad.
"Don't worry boy. I will take care of getting your full potential." The old man says smiling at me.
Great, now I will get more and 'better' training.
"But why are you telling me all this? Wouldn't it be better to let him know nothing and just give the training?"
"Not. I like honesty in my soldiers, so I must be honest with them from the beginning." You can tell that the old man is from the division, he has the same paternalistic style as all the officers and NCOs here.
"Are we going to do the same obstacle training every day without shooting?"
"No, eventually you will start shooting. Wouldn't you have shot if you were real enemies?"
"Attacking from different angles. I would have fired, but I would not have survived the combat."
"That is why it is important that the rest also shoot. When the whole group shoots and takes their respective targets it will be when they are ready."
"You are never really ready to go into combat. It doesn't matter how many weapons you carry. The first time you see your enemy you will not be prepared."
"True, but if these boys remain united with each other and with the Gruppen in which they are assigned, then they will survive the first meeting. Just like you."
After this little conversation there was an awkward silence before the old man finished eating, knowing that there would be little time left of those two hours, I hastened to finish my meal. The old man makes sure to eat everything on the plate and drink the entire contents of the metal cup. Then he stands up and orders all the members of the training to return to the obstacle course to continue with the training.
We returned to the obstacle course and continued our strange routine until the sun dropped behind the horizon.
The next day passed almost exactly like the previous one, except that after eating the old man finally let us shoot.
Wow, now I understand about unfolding the bipod and gripping the stock with the other hand. This weapon has so much recoil I'm surprised my bullets actually hit the target.
Now I understand that handling this weapon as if it were a rifle is crazy, which brings to mind several memories ...
Even so, I believe I have seen in some archive photos that some MG42 operators used the weapon without being deployed on the ground or without resting it on something hard and firm. So, like Rambo.
The third day of training while the rest of the boys have to learn to disassemble and clean the weapon completely; as if they didn't know that from the academy; I start a new circuit. Both my assistant and I have to run to designated positions, take them, hold there for a few seconds, and then take and hold the next one; and if at any point an enemy appears in the form of a practice target; we must destroy it with the MG.
Needless to say, the first attempt was disastrous, the second was slightly better and the third only passable.
The night of that same day my colleagues from Gruppe informed me that that day they had to fight with enemy formations in the forest and that my absence is noticeable. I don't know whether to be happy that they miss me or scare myself with the fact that my lack could cost one of them their lives.
I don't want to think about that kind of thing while training but we are on the front lines, that can easily happen.
The fourth day consisted of more obstacle course routine and the forest circuit in the afternoon. That day I managed to improve my times. I am now able to reload, cock and prime my MG in just over fifteen seconds. Also now I am able to carry and fire the MG Rambo style. It reminds me a bit of the first season.
On the fifth day the old man made us go up to the Hanomag, they drove for a while… In fact I'm still waiting for us to stop.
I'm the weirdo of the group, again. They are all sitting on the benches inside the half-track and I am leaning out; observing the landscape.
"Erik, you should stay inside; if an enemy hits you, the armor will not protect you." The old man, who travels with us, reprimands me.
"As if armor mattered, if a miasma ray hits 251 we are all dead."
"Ray? I've never seen a neuroi doing that."
Ahh, it's true. They used to use shrapnel 'weapons', I think they called them hedgehog weapons, and at some point they changed to the lightning bolts seen in the series.
"Anyway, sit on your seat, it won't take us much longer to arrive."
"Sorry, I can't help it, I'm from Aufklärungs after all."
"Aufklärungs?" Asks one of the boys.
"Yes, Erik comes from a Zug who has previously entered combat, but due to a promotion he has wanted to adopt the role of MG." Explains the old man.
Now the boys look at me with different eyes. Did they think he came from the academy like them? I thought I made it quite clear the first day. In addition to all the references to actual combat that I mentioned earlier.
The landscape is similar all the way, however it does not become monotonous, there are slight differences; glades, trees of different species, fields of grass and even flowers and you can even see some animals; deer, rabbits and many birds.
At some point the 251 stops and the old man leaves his seat to walk the rear space of the half track to the rear doors. Once there, he opens them wide.
"We have already arrived. Here you will have your final proof, do not look at me like that, we are not going to send you into combat. Yet."
The boys looked at him very badly after what he had said, personally I do not care if they send us to combat already, I really want to try my new weapon in a real fight.
We get off the transport, the sun begins to go down, it is the perfect time to start a night fight.
A hundred or two hundred meters away is the edge of a grove, the place where we are right now is a clearing of green grass with an intense smell of the countryside.
The instructor orders us to form five pairs of MGs and assistants, after inspecting our postures and weapons, he stands in front of us all.
"Today should be the last day of your training and warm-up. Today you should already be getting to know the Gruppen of which from today you will be a part." The old man must have some idea to give a speech like this in this situation, more if he really says that we are ready, but anyway; Let's see what he has to say.- Instead I want to give you the opportunity to familiarize yourself with the environment that from today will be your battlefield. This will be your most common place, more than the camp itself. I want you to take your equipment and take a walk around the surroundings, soak up everything you can with this nature. As soon as it gets dark we will return to the camp and you will all be assigned to different Gruppen and Zuge. That's it. Try not to get too far or the neurois will kill you." The old man walks away from us waving his hand.
The old man couldn't seem more of an asshole to me. In this situation saying that at the end of the speech will only make anyone want to move from the site. Oh Wait, maybe that was the intention, he was trying to inspire us with courage in the face of the unknown. It is a very necessary quality for the front. Courage, without courage no one will advance towards the enemy lines after having fought for the first time.
The old man turns unexpectedly to go into the grove, probably to force us to move when he is not around.
I take his "disappearance" as a sign, and start to move towards the grove. This is not the time to be scared, I've already fought those red and black cocoons before. Also if we are in this area it is because it must be quite safe.
I start to walk but soon after I stop, nobody follows me; they taught us that the assistant had to go with the MG operator always and at all times; however Ruoff was not here. I turn to see where he had stayed. He's still standing motionless, right where the old man had given us the quirky little speech.
"Come on, Ruoff. I want to explore the grove. Do not stay behind, it would be bad if I ran out of ammunition if a turtle decides to make an appearance." I call him with a smile, as warm as possible, to try to encourage him.
"Ahh. Yes, right away." The aforementioned responds, who quickly runs to meet me. It seems that his sense of duty is stronger than his fear. Okay, it's good that it is so.
As soon as we enter the grove I load, cock and readied my weapon. It's not like we're going into combat but doing so makes me feel more secure. I have not fought with this weapon yet but I know that it is considerably more powerful than my previous rifle.
The interior of the grove is cool, with a light breeze that makes the stay even more pleasant. The ground is covered with leaves and moss, it is very pleasant to walk around here.
I spend the rest of the time until sunset taking a walk around the surroundings. Eventually I meet another of the couples from the training group, it seems that they are gradually daring to enter the small forest.
It's so good inside the forest, I want to lie on the ground ...
I'm looking for a place that provides me with some cover, enough to serve as an excuse to lie there and deploy my MG without anyone asking why I'm just lying on the ground.
There. There is a spot between a tree and a small rock that provides natural cover, and I can also use the space between the rock and the thick roots of the tree to poke out with the MG just enough to shoot but not too much to make it hard to hit.
The ground does not have so many leaves or moss, so it will not be so soft, but it will be the perfect excuse to bet.
I lay down on the ground, place the MG42 between the rock and the tree, open the compartment that usually covers the tape of bullets and place a cylindrical magazine on the side, then pull the tape until the first bullet is positioned just above the the slot, then close the lid and pull the bolt to cock the gun. I 'm ready. I settle on the ground while placing my left hand on the butt as instructed by the old man.
Ruoff is right behind me, sprawled on the floor, ready to supply me with more clips or tapes, should that become necessary.
I remain silent, I can only hear the murmur of the wind, the song of the birds, my breathing and Ruoff's breath.
Suddenly I have a feeling like last time, a hunch. I don't see him but I know the old man is right in front of us, a hundred yards away, partially hidden by foliage and trees.
It would be very funny to fire a warning shot, but if I hit the old man in the chest, they will throw me out of the army.
The smell of damp earth, moss and litter is pleasant. I would stay here to live.
After a while I stick my head out and check that everything is calm. As soon as everything is to my liking, I get up off the ground and with me; my MG.
Then I look for another similar place, trying not to turn my back on the old man. Since I think, no, I know where it is.
I find another similar place and do the same.
After a few minutes I get up again and continue going into that forest, the old man does not move away from us since he is always a hundred or two hundred meters hidden among the vegetation. I look back, Ruoff follows me in silence, he has the smile of a child and a face of complete happiness. However, there is no trace of the rest of the couples. The environment begins to darken, it is time to return. Without turning my back on the old man or the front behind him, I begin to withdraw; stopping occasionally in defensible locations and deploying the MG.
In an indeterminate time between twenty and forty minutes we return to the place where we formed for the old man's speech and where the 251s are still parked.
The rest of the couples are already there, it seems that they moved away a little. I also noticed that we still had time before we returned, but since it is a little darker than usual inside the grove, I had not been able to fully calculate the time or the position of the sun.
I hope this can serve as a precedent for future situations.
The old man appears when the sun really begins to fall.
"Well. It seems that the moment of nature has been good for you." That said, the old man lets out a laugh, as if he had said something funny. Nobody laughs with him for what he continues."Today you have entered a forest unknown to you and you have advanced until you no longer feel safe. Some of you have advanced more than others. Some of you have not left the edge of the forest. Anyway, I will write recommendations for you to be distributed in the different Gruppen based on your performance in this little acclimatization training. Now get on the transports, we have to go back to the camp."
We got on the transports and headed for the base.
The way back is more monotonous, because due to the sudden darkness the landscape cannot be appreciated.
The night is cold, and some of the boys snuggle up to one another to try and keep warm, what a cute scene; if not for the fact that I am currently even younger than these guys.
In a while we will arrive at the camp, tomorrow the boys will be assigned to their different and new Gruppen and then we will be able to fight. Or so I would like to say, but I already have a Gruppe and also although my acclimatization has finished my punishment period it still has not done it and I think I remember that Kurt asked if he could do something else besides training so I suppose that tomorrow I I will dedicate to a different task.
Anyway. We arrive at the base and each one of us goes to his tent to sleep, today has been a tremendously exhausting day and tomorrow it does not seem that it will improve.
The next morning, I say goodbye to my Gruppe colleagues and wish them luck, then I go to the dining room and breakfast, and then to the obstacle course; a place in which the old man is already waiting patiently for all of us to appear.
As the minutes go by, little by little the boys appear and begin to group in pairs that train together during acclimatization.
Before lunchtime all the boys had been assigned to their new Gruppen, Ruoff ended up in a Panzergrenadier Zug and I was soon alone in that clearing. I was about to go back to the dining room when the old man stopped me.
"Wait boy. Today your duty remains with me. Today you will use the rest of the day to help me prepare the field again for another group of recruits who will arrive tomorrow only that this one will train in the use of a somewhat different equipment than yours today. Tomorrow your duty will be to help in the kitchen, I suppose they will make you peel potatoes. And with that your punishment will be over." The old man, as always, speaks with enough confidence and determination.
"Yes Herr Unteroffizier."
We went to eat, and at the end we returned to the area of the obstacle course.
"Well, the boys who will come to train are not exactly from Heer" I look at the old man puzzled by the comment." You see, the Luftwaffe wants to try to 'sell' their FG42 to Heer, but Heer is not willing to agree until he makes a test of capabilities and since I am the one who trains or acclimatizes the boys who will serve as MG in the Gruppen, the controls thought that I would be the perfect candidate for the test."
"I see, I wouldn't agree either without knowing what that weapon does or can do. It is supposed to have the same capabilities as the MG42, but if that were the case they could still use MGs themselves and they don't. What effective range do those weapons have?"
"The same, or at least that is supposed to be."
"Then we must not touch anything. If they have exactly the same capabilities as the MG it will be worth the field as it is."
"No, the Luftwaffe guys don't like to go head-on like we do. They prefer to flank and use their sights to shoot accurately." The old man gestures with his hands trying to draw a pincer movement.
"Wait, do the FG42s have sights? Can I put a sight on my MG?"
"No, they are two different things." The old man denies completely. I remember that the FG42 is an MG42 with the receiver cover closed and a slot to insert a ten round magazine in that place. Also it has a mode selector to be able to shoot in semiautomatic and automatic as well as an adjustment to put a telescopic sight. I want to install that to my MG.
"If I wanted to put those improvements to my MG, more or less how expensive would it be."
"You can not. End."
"The people also said that you could not mount a cannon on a plane and the Stuka G carries three point seven cannons, the HS 129 that carries a five cannon, or even the rare Liberion bomber that carries a seven point five cannon if the Luftwaffe can have guns on their planes, I can have sights on my MG"
"Yes, let's see. You could get to look at it but you don't have enough strength to carry the MG on your shoulder, you are not a witch."
"But I am the son of a witch, I must have inherited something, come on, I say."
"I don't think it influences, it's a women's thing. Putting a sight on your MG and throwing it over your shoulder will only hurt you with the recoil."
"I'll try at least."
"It doesn't matter, you'll learn it with experience. Now help me put more barbed wire.
"More? You really want to make it difficult for them."
"Well of course. They come now after three years of war to tell us that we must change our weapon to an automatic one just because it gave them good results."
"There is little left for the StG44 ... " I say in a whisper.
"The what?"
"Nothing. Let's continue making the field difficult."
We spent the rest of the day complicating the obstacle course even more. Didn't they say the Fallschirmjagers were the elite? Well, this should seem easy to you.
Tomorrow is the day of peeling potatoes ...
Another day and I'll be free. Now I have to go to bed, the sooner I go to bed the sooner I will get up and the sooner this punishment will end.
The next day I just go to the dining room to have breakfast, only instead of leaving when I'm done, I'm going to talk to the man in the portable kitchen.
"Hello"
"Hello" he answers me.
"Today the command told me that I had to help in the kitchen."
"True, but I thought you would shy away from your obligations."
"That could lead them to add more days to the punishment and I want to leave now." I answer anxiously. "Therefore, tell me how I can help you."
It would be very boring to relate how Erik peeled a hundred kilos of potatoes in one day and then went to sleep almost completely exhausted.