Soldiers of Tomorrow: The Winter War

by Michael G. Thomas

  Nobody said a word and waited for the explanation.

  “We are going to fight this army. We will fight the SS in open combat. But we aren’t going to do it here. We go south, and we engage them on our terms. Hit them with everything we have got! But if this is going to work, we need more help. We have to release some of my countrymen currently held prisoner by the Maquis. Most important, I need the commander of the E200 and his crew to join us.”

  “That’s insane. You are talking about releasing the enemy!” screamed one.

  “No!” yelled another.

  Woody held up his hands.

  “Let him speak! I haven’t heard any great plans yet. I want to hear what he has to say!”

  Marcus went on.

  “Not many months ago you would have all called me the enemy, would you not? But now you call me a friend, or at least an ally. There are more of my people who would fight for what we know is right. We need them.”

  “Can you really do it? Can you convince them to join?” Woody asked.

  “It can’t be done!” shouted another.

  Marcus smiled back.

  “Trust me, I know how to motivate him. He’s a professional, like me.”

  Woody looked around the room to judge what reception Marcus had got. Somehow they were starting to see hope, but he couldn’t see how or why.

  “You see, they needed someone to point in a direction, any direction, and say this is where we are going, and this is where we will fight,” Isaac whispered in Woody’s ear.

  He nodded in agreement.

  “Do we ride out and fight the enemy with everything we have?” Woody asked aloud, “We are stronger than they think, and with Marcus’ help even more so. We will never be this strong again, and we will hit them with surprise. What do you say? Are you in?”

  There was an excited roar. The recent memory of the videos from Pittsburgh and Columbus still burnt into their memories, but they were not having the effect the Reich wanted. It created a bitter sense of resistance amongst all who had seen them, and in that moment, they had been united.

  “Tell everyone to get ready! Anyone that can fight! We move south in six hours. Anybody not ready will be left behind!” Woody gave the order.

  With that, the crowd broke up with a new sense of purpose and confidence. They had a job to do, and a cast iron willpower to get it done right. He strode over to a map table beside the radio. Marcus was at his side.

  “This is where we will hold them.” Marcus pointed to Washington on the map.

  Woody turned his attention to Isaac as he took up position on the radio, knowing what was coming next.

  “Get Ray to move south and keep the SS away from Washington. Hold them at Alexandria for as long as he can. We’re coming.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Autobahn 95, Near Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

  13th February 2018, 7.14pm

  Marcus braced himself from the cold as the heavily armoured tank trundled along at the head of the column. He looked backwards and smiled as the massive shape of his landship marched along with the others. A mere few hundred metres away, yet in the middle of this terrible blizzard almost impossible to make out. Eiserner Gott looked more like a shadowy apparition, lit by her external navigation lights, all of which were switched on.

  There were scores of trucks, SUVs, and even a smattering of stolen armoured cars. He turned his attention to Hauptsturmführer Klaus Meyer, the commander of the fearsome E-200. The man remained upright, with his torso poking out from the gigantic turret. It was the only tank in the unit heading south, and everything looked tiny and insignificant alongside its enormity. At two hundred tonnes, the machine was so big and heavy it damaged almost everything it passed over, roads included.

  “I’m glad you decided to work with us. Many said you’d never go for it.”

  Meyer said nothing, and looked carefully at Marcus. He did not look like a cruel man, but then some of the worst appeared the nicest of people until the very last minute.

  “I never thought this day would come,” Meyer said, watching the lights of the city move away to the right, “The Reich is a great achievement, but these attacks, this violence against civilians is not what we volunteered for. I will not fight to see the end of the Reich, my friend. But I will fight to keep our citizens safe. The SS need to be brought under control and removed from policing our streets.”

  Marcus looked at him and nodded in agreement. They were both from a different world to most of the people in the column.

  “Yes. This isn’t how it was meant to be. You saw the footage the same as me, though. Reich forces in the Americas are out of control. In the last week, more than five hundred civilians have been executed in the streets. Many have been forcibly removed and taken away to unknown camps. If you could…”

  Meyer lifted a hand.

  “No need to say anything more, Kapitän Klenner. We’re both military men, and neither of us signed up to terrorise or engage in executions of civilians.”

  He looked ahead at the autobahn extending southwards.

  “I’ve seen the footage, the same as you. And I’ve experienced the violence at first hand. I ended the fighting at the Public Library; don’t forget. But I agree, the Gestapo and SS police are out of control.”

  Marcus needed little reminder of the harsh words he’d heard just hours before. Many might have loved Meyer, but his recent actions had left his loyalties in suspicion. He was a war hero, but known only for a single thing. Fighting.

  “We all heard the rumours of the executions back in the War. And worse.”

  Meyer visibly flinched as he listened.

  “Yes, we have heard the same stories. It is up to us to make sure it is never possible. If even half the stories are true, then some of the greatest crimes in history were carried out in our names.”

  They both fell silent for a moment, but then a sentry cried out and pointed ahead. Meyer sent orders to his crew, and the turrets swivelled into position in case they were needed. The lights increased in brightness until finally they split into four pickup trucks. All were packed with civilians, most carrying rifles of some kind. They pulled up and waited at the side of the road.

  “I’ll deal with this,” said Marcus.

  He moved carefully, following the safest route down from the turret and hull, and eventually to the track assembly. He hit the ground hard and waited in the snow. A man from the trucks approached, with three more behind him. They didn’t stop until a metre away. The obvious leader of the group wore layers of clothing from head to toe, a thick scarf over his face, and a fur-lined cap covered his head.

  “You Klenner?”

  Marcus nodded.

  “I am Kapitän Klenner, yes.”

  The man sighed in relief and pulled away the scarf. The face beneath was podgy, slightly overweight, and pale.

  “We’ve come from Philly to join in the fight. We got the call from a guy called the Iron Viper. You know him?”

  Marcus smiled.

  “Yeah, I know him. How many of you are there?”

  “Twenty-three, all armed and ready. There were thirty of us, but those SS bastards came into the city at night two days ago from three different directions, and they had a lot of those greenbacks with them. They killed a lot of people, some of them from our neighbourhood.”

  The man looked back as though half expecting to see some of the feared SS men emerging from the shadows.

  “When we got back home, we found we had people missing.”

  “What?”

  The man nodded multiple times.

  “It’s true. Same happened in all the suburbs. They’ve been snatching people, mainly women and children. Rumour has it; this man SS-Oberführer Sigismund Erwin is the one behind it. He’s declared war on any town or city that defies his will.”

  Marcus knew exactly who he was talking about. Ray had passed on reports every day of his fighting with Erwin’s men. They were tough, experienced, and entirely ruthless.

&
nbsp; “I understand. And your people, they are here for the fight?”

  The man rose up straight and proud before pointing to the four battered, scarcely running trucks.

  “Philly is in a state, and there is still fighting in some parts of the city. You see, the SS have turned us against each other. But we’re here to help in the fight. You’re gonna drive them to the sea, right?”

  Marcus did his best to look confident, but before he could speak the great shape of Eiserner Gott strode into view. The machine was covered in snow where it had settled on the shoulders and main hull, but she still looked massive.

  “Wow,” said the man, “It’s true. You’ve brought the machines from Manhattan.”

  Smaller shapes passed Eiserner Gott and headed along the sides of the autobahn. They were the Militants, and though far less impressive, were colossal monsters compared to the trucks and other vehicles on the wide road. The new arrivals from Philly watched in silence until Marcus answered.

  “We’re going to bring peace to the East Coast. And we’re going to put an end to this terror coming from the SS, once and for all. They’ve declared war on every civilian and soldier alike that refuses to cow down to them and carry out their cruelty. The time of the Reich is over.”

  That seemed exactly what the man wanted to hear. He slapped Marcus on the shoulder, and then quickly removed his hand while looking on sheepishly.

  “Then we’re with you…Kapitän. We’re with you all the damned way.”

  * * *

  Baltimore, Maryland.

  “Bullshit. That ain’t a plan. Get him on the line,” Ray insisted over the radio.

  He was grimacing and angry, still freezing cold having returned from their most recent mission. Now it felt like he was having shit shovelled down his throat.

  “Who?”

  “The President, who do you think? Give me Blue Hawk.”

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Just get him,” snapped Ray.

  He threw the handset down angrily.

  “They want us to hold here against everything, and at the same time, make your presence known? Is that about the sum of it?”

  Ray didn’t say a word, but from his expression Gerry was spot on.

  “I mean, I get using bait, but to actually be the bait, that isn’t so funny.”

  “No, and it risks the lives of those here as much as it does my own.”

  “This is Blue Hawk.” Woody’s voice rang out from the radio.

  “This plan, I want to hear it from you. Is this what you want?”

  “It is. There are many more strands to this. You have to trust me. Can you do that?”

  He didn’t have a choice.

  “I’ll do it, but don’t you forget about us.”

  “You have my word.”

  “Got it, over and out.”

  “So we’re doing this? Heading south when we can barely hold what we have?”

  “We are, Gerry. Gather anyone who can fight. We move out in thirty minutes. It’ll take us a few hours to get to Alexandria in this weather.”

  * * *

  Alexandria, Commonwealth of Virginia.

  The snow was coming in thick and fast. You couldn’t see the road through the compacted snow as they made their way through the remains of the town. It was an abandoned wasteland, like the rest of Washington, just not in such a horrific state from the detonation over the capital. Alexandria looked like people had picked up and left a few decades ago. Ray drew the truck to a halt when they reached the southern edge of town. Old abandoned vehicles lined the streets, but there was no sign of life. He got out to look down the street. Light was fading fast, the sun hidden by the thick cloud cover and heavy snowfall. It was too bitter to stay outside for long, but they had work to do.

  “Let’s get this street blocked off and locked down. Move it!” he roared.

  Dozens of vehicles had lined up where they had followed in convoy. He had maybe a hundred fighters or more, but it seemed all too little now he had an idea of what was coming.

  “We’ve got some work ahead of us, so let’s get it done!”

  * * *

  Ray awoke as he felt a hand shaking him. Gerry was standing over him.

  “Shhh,” he said, a finger to his lips.

  “What is it?” Ray whispered as he rose up quietly and slowly.

  He was trying to shrug off the sleepiness; surprised he’d managed to get any shuteye at all, a sign of how exhausted he had been.

  “We’ve got an SS patrol at the barricade.”

  “Are they here to fight or give demands?”

  “Not sure, but they know we are covering them. They are standing in front of our guns.”

  Ray rushed to the stairway and up onto the roof. It was early in the morning, at first light. Lisa and two others were on the roof, covering the street. It looked like they had been there for a while. Their faces were pale from the bitter cold, and snow had accumulated on their clothing.

  “Who is in command here?” a man demanded in a thick German accent.

  He was gruff and confident.

  “This is it,” muttered Ray.

  He leapt up onto the corner of the wall on the rooftop so that he was in full view of those below. His rifle in hand but not threatening.

  “I am!”

  “And you are?”

  “Ray Barnes!” he roared so that there was no uncertainty.

  There was muffled conversation from those at the barricade as one used a pair of binoculars to get a better look at him and confirm his identity. He stood tall and proud, painfully aware that a sharpshooter could take a shot at him in any moment. It was a chance he had to take. Those were his orders.

  “I am Ray Barnes, and I am here to tell you that you are not welcome here.”

  The German began to laugh, but he didn’t say a word. He signalled for his people to pull back, and they simply walked away.

  “What are they doing?” Lisa asked.

  “Preparing to assault,” replied Gerry.

  “What?”

  “You heard him. Spread the word, and get everyone ready. You know what to do.”

  The German squad got thirty metres down the road when they took cover in the shop fronts. An engine roared in the distance, and a Grizzly pulled into view. Smoke belched from its exhausts as it stormed towards the barricade. Gunfire struck the vehicle from the nearby buildings, but nothing could get through. A Panzerfaust fired. It landed short, and an explosion ripped through the street. Flames and rubble burst out into the air, but the armoured vehicle ploughed through the cloud of fire. Automatic gunfire continued to bounce from the truck, but there was no stopping it. It struck the barricade and blew it wide open.

  The Grizzly’s wheels locked as its brakes were put on full. It screeched to a halt. The doors swung open under a hail of gunfire, and Stoßtruppen rushed out, bullets ricocheting from their armour. Gerry appeared beside Ray with a lit Molotov and threw it down onto the Germans below. Two others were thrown from the adjacent building. The bottles smashed over the Grizzly and the ground around it. In seconds, the five armoured soldiers who had climbed out were ablaze, and others were jumping from the vehicle as it went up in flames.

  “Let them burn!” Baker cried.

  The sight was horrific, and the agonising screams rang out for a few minutes until the street fell silent. Black smoke poured from the vehicle and the bodies lying around it. Many of the fighters in the buildings around them looked mortified. It was the grim reality of war that they could never have imagined, but not Baker, he revelled in their destruction. A gunshot struck the building edge beside Ray, and he ducked down as a burst followed it. He hunkered down and moved to cover where he could look down into the street again. Dozens of SS troops were pressing forward along the street, and others were moving into the nearby buildings and alleyways of the ruined structures. Several more vehicles were moving up the road ahead.

  Gunfire rang out on the building on the far side of the road.
They could see muzzle flashes through the broken windows where their friends engaged the enemy. Screams rang out behind as more shots were fired, and he and Baker rushed to the side of the building. Four SS soldiers rushed to out flank them. They opened fire and cut down two before the others took cover. Two of their people lay dead in the alleyway, too, and a third wounded woman was being hauled to safety.

  Gunfire echoed all over as the fight broke down into a dirty and messy urban battle. It would cost many lives to stay, and they all knew it. Lisa and Roy reached the edge beside them, taking over their position as Ray and Gerry moved back into cover.

  “What do you want to do?” Gerry asked.

  Ray didn’t say a word and rushed back to the radio.

  “Get me Blue Hawk, now!”

  “Identify yourself.” It was Isaac.

  “Isaac, get him for me now. I’m not fucking around!”

  He grimaced as he heard more fire ring out, and a wounded man was carried into the building with blood pouring from a gunshot wound to the chest.

  “This is Blue Hawk,” a voice replied.

  “We can’t stay here. We can hold a couple of hours, maybe, if we’re lucky. We need help, now!”

  “It’s already on its way. Hold out as long as possible, and then fall back to Washington, you got that?”

  “Hold?” he screamed.

  “Those are your orders. We are coming, I promise you. Do what you can, and then get back to Washington! Blue Hawk, over and out.”

  Ray slammed the handset down onto the table. He grabbed several more magazines and stuffed them into the pack slung at his side.

  “So that’s it? No help coming?”

  “For now, Gerry, we’re on our own.”

  * * *

  Reich Atlantic Naval Station, Norfolk, Virginia

  The wind howled as the storm continued to increase in intensity. Even inside the modern building, they all felt and heard the sound of the elements lashing the facility. Generalleutnant Curt von Kluge leant over the large table now covered with maps. A number of electronic mapping units were along the one side, but even after all these years, he still preferred the old-school system. The room was quite dark, the main light coming from large lamps burning down onto the table. Three other men were with him. Two were Wehrmacht senior officers, and the third SS-Oberführer Sigismund Erwin, commander of the 80th Division.