I continue to crawl bit by bit, passing many corpses—German, French, and even British. It seems they were all here. After what feels like an eternity of nervousness, I finally reach the edge of the French trench. I cautiously look right and left to see if anyone is there. After making sure the coast is clear, I immediately jump into the trench.
"I really will have to pull a miracle to avoid high command court-martialing me," I whisper to myself as I continue to walk silently, holding my Gewehr 98 rifle. I crouch when I spot four French soldiers having a conversation in French.
French Soldier 1: "Tu as entendu quelque chose?" (Did you hear something?)
French Soldier 2: "Non, je pense que c'est juste le vent." (No, I think it's just the wind.)
French Soldier 3: "Je déteste ces nuits de garde. C'est tellement sinistre ici." (I hate these guard nights. It's so eerie here.)
French Soldier 4: "Arrête de te plaindre. C'est notre devoir." (Stop complaining. It's our duty.)
I quietly assess the situation, strategizing my next move.
As I waited, the one who had been complaining began to move away, grumbling under his breath and distancing himself from his position. Seizing the opportunity, I targeted the one nearest to me. Methodically and silently, I took them down, one by one. The complainer, upon returning and realizing the eerie silence, asked his now-deceased friends why they were so quiet. When he turned and saw me standing amidst his three dead comrades, his mouth opened in a silent scream of horror. Quickly, I pointed my rifle at his head and said in broken French, "Parle et tu vis, fais du bruit et tu meurs." (Speak and you live, make noise and you die), attempting to convey my message as clearly as possible.
Terrified, he nodded, understanding the gravity of his situation. I then demanded he point out the location of the underground bunker for the supply depot and the command center. With a trembling hand, he pointed to the western part of the trenches.
"Maintenant, montre-moi. Lentement," I instructed, indicating for him to lead me there slowly. (Now, show me. Slowly.)
As I followed him from behind, I kept my rifle pointed at him while maintaining a distance, ensuring I wouldn't be caught off guard by any potential trickery. We continued our cautious trek, stealthily passing many French sentries and soldiers who were asleep. We even encountered Capitaine Gautier, who inquired why Caporal Amaury Juste was not with his squad.
In a tense moment, Caporal Juste quickly fabricated a response to Capitaine Gautier, saying, "Je suis ordonné d'aller chercher une caisse de munitions pour la 33ème compagnie, monsieur. Ils ont signalé une pénurie," (I am ordered to fetch an ammunition crate for the 33rd Company, sir. They have reported a shortage.) His voice was steady, convincing enough under the circumstances.
Capitaine Gautier nodded, seemingly satisfied with the explanation, and waved us on, returning to his previous duties. As we moved away, I breathed a sigh of relief, impressed by Caporal Juste's quick thinking but remaining vigilant.
Keeping my gun pointed at him, I whispered harshly, "Continue," ensuring he understood that any deviation from our current path could have dire consequences. The stakes were high, and there was no room for error as we moved closer to our objective within the maze of the trench network.
Arriving at the underground bunker, I commanded him to open the wooden door. As we entered, I was greeted by an array of supplies: rifles, ammunition, grenades, machine guns, and even medical tools and supplies. Absorbed in the sight and momentarily letting my guard down, I didn't immediately notice the French soldier seizing his chance for a counterattack, slowly raising his weapon, ready to strike.
Just as he aimed at me, a flicker of movement caught my eye. Instinctively, I reacted, my hand moving with unforeseen speed and strength, gripping and bending his rifle with ease, a testament to a sudden surge of adrenaline—or something more. I muttered a curse under my breath, momentarily startled by my own forgotten capability for such superhuman strength.
The French soldier, now weaponless and stunned, barely had a moment to process what had happened before I acted decisively to neutralize the threat, ensuring no alarm could be raised.
There was no conversation between us in those final moments—only the swift, silent acknowledgment of the stakes at hand. The gravity of the situation weighed heavily as I took a moment to compose myself, realizing the depth of my mission's secrecy and the lengths to which I'd need to go to maintain it.
"That was really close," I whispered to myself, a surge of adrenaline still coursing through my veins. Hastily, I moved to block the door with a sturdy plank, ensuring no one would barge in without warning.
With a sly smile, I surveyed the array of grenades before me. "I could do a lot of damage and chaos with these," I mused, my mind already racing with strategic possibilities.
Curiosity led me to peer into another nearby crate, revealing a cache of French machine gun's. With a sense of urgency, I stowed my own rifle away and eagerly seized a machine gun from the pile. Swiftly, I loaded it with ammunition, the metallic clink of rounds sliding into place echoing through the bunker.
As I grabbed a handful of grenades, the wooden door began to rattle with the sounds of approaching French voices. With a grin, I positioned myself closer to the door, anticipation coursing through my veins. Without hesitation, I unleashed a powerful kick, sending the door flying outward with force, catching anyone in its path off guard.
To my left and right, French soldiers sprang into action, raising their weapons and shouting in alarm. "Deutsch!" they exclaimed, their voices tinged with surprise and aggression.
Reacting swiftly, I dispatched them with swift, precise kicks, utilizing the close-quarters combat skills drilled into me during training. However, my victory was short-lived as a squad of ten French soldiers emerged from the left, their rifles trained on me as they opened fire.
Taking cover behind the now displaced door, I waited for a lull in their barrage before seizing the opportunity to retaliate. With a deft hand, I primed a grenade and hurled it toward their position, the sound of their panicked shouts echoing through the trench as they scrambled for cover.
As the chaos of the grenade detonation subsided, I emerged from my makeshift cover, wielding my machine gun with lethal intent. With a steady hand and unwavering determination, I returned fire, the staccato rhythm of gunfire punctuating the chaos of battle as I fought to hold my ground against the onslaught of French soldiers.
Bullets whizzed past me as I maintained my position, determined to outlast and outgun the enemy. The acrid smell of gun smoke filled the air, mingling with the metallic tang of fear and adrenaline. With each pull of the trigger, I focused on my training, aiming for precision amidst the chaos of battle.
As the French soldiers scrambled for cover, their movements erratic and panicked, I seized the opportunity to advance, inching closer with calculated precision. With a burst of speed and agility, I maneuvered around the trench, utilizing every scrap of cover to my advantage.
The rhythmic thud of gunfire echoed through the cramped confines of the bunker, drowning out the shouts and cries of the enemy. With each passing moment, the tide of battle shifted, inching closer to victory or defeat with each pull of the trigger.
In the heat of battle, time seemed to slow, each second stretching into an eternity of struggle and survival. But amidst the chaos and carnage, one thought burned bright in my mind: I would not falter, I would not yield. Victory was within reach, and I would seize it with every ounce of strength and determination I possessed.
With a grim smile, I observed the heavily defended underground bunker, knowing that victory lay beyond the barricade of French soldiers. With a swift motion, I hurled a grenade towards the massed ranks of enemy troops, the explosive device sailing through the air with deadly intent.As the grenade detonated with a deafening blast, chaos erupted amidst the French ranks. Shouts of alarm mingled with the sounds of gunfire as soldiers scrambled for cover, their carefully laid defenses crumbling under the onslaught of my attack.With a savage laugh, I unleashed a relentless barrage of gunfire, mowing down anyone foolish enough to stand in my path. The air reverberated with the cacophony of battle as screams of pain and anguish pierced the thick fog of war.Despite the odds stacked against me, I pressed forward with unwavering determination, fueled by a primal instinct for survival. Each enemy soldier that fell before me brought me one step closer to victory, one step closer to achieving my objective.As the smoke cleared and the dust settled, I stood amidst the wreckage of my foes, victorious but weary. The taste of triumph was sweet, but I knew that the battle was far from over.
"Leutnant," a young soldier called out, holding a pair of binoculars, "it seems Hauptmann Nietzsche has started the fun without us." He gestured towards a smoky section of the French trenches. "I guess he's making a distraction for us."
Leutnant Klaus smiled, his eyes glinting with anticipation, as he locked eyes with Unteroffizier Adolf. Their silent communication spoke volumes, a shared understanding of the mission ahead. "Gentlemen, let's go make the fatherland proud."
"Sirs, yes sirs!" the soldiers responded in unison, their voices brimming with determination.
With purposeful strides, they climbed out of the trench and charged towards the French defenses, their hearts ablaze with the fervor of patriotism. With the threat of mines diminished and the element of surprise on their side, they advanced towards their objective, ready to do whatever it took to secure victory for the fatherland.
As I fought my way towards the heavily guarded underground bunker, the relentless onslaught of French soldiers threatened to overwhelm me. From both the front and behind, they pressed in, their determination matched only by my own.
Taking cover behind a crate, I continued to fire the machine gun, the deafening roar of gunfire mingling with my shouts of defiance. But suddenly, the weapon jammed, leaving me vulnerable and cursing under my breath.
"Jammed? Really, shit!" I muttered, frustration mounting as I scrambled to clear the malfunction. With each passing moment, the enemy drew closer, their shouts growing louder as they closed in.
With no time to waste, I grabbed a rifle from one of the fallen French soldiers and resumed firing, each shot a desperate bid for survival. But despite my efforts, the enemy continued to advance, their numbers overwhelming.
As the gap between us closed, I braced myself for the inevitable onslaught, knowing that victory was no longer assured. But even in the face of overwhelming odds, I refused to surrender, determined to fight to the bitter end for the cause I believed in.
As Klaus and Adolf arrived from the top of the trench, a surge of relief washed over me. With their reinforcements, the tide of battle swiftly turned in our favor. German soldiers poured into the trench, catching the surprised French defenders off guard and swiftly dispatching them.As Klaus and Adolf neared me, still firing at the French guarding the entrance to the underground bunker, I couldn't help but smirk.
"Took you long enough, Leutnant, Unteroffizier," I quipped, my voice laced with humor despite the intensity of the firefight.Klaus laughed in response, his eyes alight with camaraderie. "You're too fast at starting the fun, Hauptmann," he retorted, a playful grin spreading across his face.Adolf, ever the embodiment of determination, let out a resounding cry.
"For the fatherland!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the trench,With Adolf's fervent cry ringing in our ears, we joined in unison, our voices blending into a chorus of defiance and determination. "For the fatherland!" we roared, our words echoing through the trench with unwavering resolve.