Not much to say as far as author notes go for this one. I'm still accepting OCs, and any and all criticism is accepted. Enjoy!
East of the Bzura River, Poland, 0800 September 11, 1939
Soldat Leif Magnuson, 4th Panzer Division
Seven days since his transfer to the Fourth Panzer Division, Leif and his two crewmates in his Pz. Kpfw. II ausf. E finally had a meaningful posting.
A Polish counteroffensive had taken the Germans by surprise, and the 10th and 4th Armies, alongside the reserves of the Army Group South, the 4th Air Fleet, and the 1st and 4th Panzer Divisions were tasked with dealing with it. The importance of winning this particular battle was that this was their best chance at destroying two of the Polish armies.
Leif had a good crew with him. He, as gunner and, by default, commander, would have to shout out orders to his crew. The driver, a smaller, cunning fellow was Soldat Otto Lokison, son of the Norse trickster god. His loader was a big guy, Soldat Adalard König, son of the Roman god Vulcan, and a pretty fast loader.
As a squadron of the 4th fleet's aircraft flew over the attacking Poles, AA fire came up to meet them. Two more aircraft went down. These Poles were tough.
The German 4th Panzer Division forces were to retreat from the outskirts of Warsaw. They were putting on the appearance of threatening one of the Polish armies. They had a few minor skirmishes, but nothing that was notable.
Over the next week, there was much restlessness in the men.
"You think they'll have us join the 10th Army?" Adalard asked his fellows.
"Probably not, they'll want us to chase the Poles away from our artillery," Otto replied from his driver's position.
The three hadn't tried to get to know each other much, since this was only a temporary listing. All over the radio chatter was the question of when the British and French send the Poles support. That's where the 4th would come in.
Wilno, Poland, 2200 September 18, 1939
St. Chor. Szt. Karol Kumiega, Korpus Ochrony Pogranicza
Five hours earlier, scouts from the Soviet Union had initiated border skirmishes with Polish forces. Now, Podpułkownik Podwiysocki decided that his troops were going to stay behind and defend Wilno from the upcoming assault.
This wouldn't have been a problem if they had tanks or AA or anti-tank weapons, but right now they were left with just infantry and handheld weapons.
Karol had just set up in a defensive position in the Rasos cemetery by the airfield with three other men. One of them used to live here. He'll likely die here.
The Germans attacking western Poland showed that it didn't matter what gods were on who's side. More men and better weapons offered better chances of winning than any of these ridiculous deities.
The first evidence of the enemy they saw was more allied troops falling back from the airfield to the cemetery and getting ready to defend. Then a Soviet soldier ran into the open only to get mowed down.
He was the first of many. All of the Soviets who happened upon the cemetery were cut down with little Polish loss of life. The Polish had repelled the first wave, retaking the airfield.
The second wave rolled over like a storm. Karol and his three allies had held their ground in the cemetery.
Just as before, Polish soldiers fell back to the cemetery from the airfield. But this time, the first Soviets were in a squadron, better armed and more structured than the Poles.
They weren't going to repel the Soviets this time. That became very obvious when a Polish soldier stood up and went down just as fast.
They emptied their guns into the incoming Soviets, until they ran out of ammunition. One of his allies, who still had a small amount of ammo, the one who was from here yelled, "Fall back deeper into the city! I'll cover you and try to slow them down!"
Karol and the other two listened and made a run for it. The last one, a son of the Greek war god, Ares, yelled at the Soviets, "I may die protecting my city, but I'll take you with me."
His machine gun lit them up. They heard grunts and cries of pain and shouting in Russian.
"He didn't buy nearly enough time."
Karol told them, drawing a sword, "Tell Podwiysocki that he needs to retreat, we can't hold them. I'll give them a surprise."
The other two ran off after nodding, leaving Karol to duck into a doorway and wait for his chance to delay the inevitable.
After only a few minutes, but what felt hours, the first Soviet came running down the alleyway. Karol's sword flashed out, catching the poor guy in the neck. Then he was surrounded.
The Soviets started mocking him, drawing various mêlée weapons and throwing Russian insults at him. His sword clashed with theirs, and by the end he took two more down, but it wasn't enough.
One of them slashed his leg, and he fell to his knees. Some chatter amongst the enemies, as a woman strode up. She had faded brown eyes, and short brown hair. She said, in fluent Polish, "Lay down your sword, and you'll be spared."
Not for long. They'll just send me to the Gulaag, Karol thought. He contemplated taking a swing at her, but didn't even have the strength left to do that. He only spat at her feet, saying, "Your words are nothing but lies, scum."
She shrugged, replying, "As you say," before raising a rifle that really should have been used at a range.
As the world went dark, Karol thought, I had thought dying would hurt more than this. God have mercy on Poland.