[H.F.] Winter
Winter
Disclaimer
The following story is complete historical fiction and should be taken into account as fiction before reading it. It is based upon actual events revolving the siege of Stalingrade in 1942 during the German occupation and invasion of Soviet Russia. It is about a journal taken into account by a soldier starting from the very beggining of the siege until the very end and German capitulation. Comments, reps and views are strongly encouraged. This is a short story but it is meant to have a bigger impact both emotionally and logically to viewers than Prussians Gloria. Prussians Gloria was meant to emphasize national patriotism. This sorts of emphasizes on a much different aspect. Enjoy!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A-Y9Wgy24NI
Seeing this video while you read journal entry 1 through 5 will improve visualization effects and enhance interest and boost motivation even further.
"If I do not get the oil of Maikop and Grozny then I must end this war."
-Adolf Hitler
Journal Entry 1# 'Case Blau' 28 June, 1942
June 28, 1942 100 Km west of Izyum, Russia
Dear, Mother
Today is a long awaited day for many of my units soldiers. It is officially called Case blau, but we only call it the great haul towards nothing. We all know were just being pitted against a few meagre armies, and that's it. We all know we'll win and come home with jars full of cash, and stuffed bellies after we win this war. Many of our officers say the war will end by August, but many of us say it will end sooner. Everywhere I go I see soldiers just celebrating as if they had already won the war, with beer kegs, and cigars. I used to go on night patrol, so I would occasionally see drunken ba.stards here and there. But now I think it is a bit different to what we used to think. I still think the war will be won as I have stated before, but it seems just too few were being put up against. Isn't there anymore opposition we must face for this oil rich region were intruding? I mean I feel we may have a severe case of over-confidence, but who knows? Maybe I'm terribly wrong.
So I write to check up on you and the family. How is Joseph? Is he still annoying the dog again? I remember last time when Rex bit him in the a.ss. I still remember that and can still randomly laugh when my friends are having a conversation. It's wierd because they look at me as if I was drunk. How is father, is he well? There have been many signs of fever in Germany so he ought to be careful in a time like this. Many war vets are coming back stone cold, and pale. But obviously from the north... Hah! Too bad what I say is true, because I swear that I think the north is more dangerous than here. It's just a bunch of peasants! No more, no less. All the action I've seen so far after 5 months is in the Ukraine and Crimea, and it was just a patrol.
I hope you are all safe and alright. The allies seem to be increasing their bombings in Germany so please be careful.
Love, Dietrich
Journal Entry 2# 'Towards Izyum' 4 July, 1942
July 4, 1942 50 km West of Izyum, Russia
Dear, Mother
It was suprising to see that what everyone has said is true. There is still no resistence, and we usually get achy after walking so long without at least jogging. It is absurd, but at least I am found safe. We thought we'd actually get a taste of combat, but we were right towards our predictions. All we have done is walk and occassionally either see a burning village in the horizon, or a few Ruskies running far away. The only combat I have witnessed, still from a far, was at precisely the start of Blau. When a panzer engaged a number of Russians from a far. We were walking through a vast field of grass. When we looked around, we saw just endless heaps of grass and not even a tree to rest on. It is mid July and it is fairly hot. The mosquitos, the sweat, the ache make it almost displeasing to be a soldier. I could only hear the sound of the shells shot from that Panzer on that day, and the men dieing. Many of my unit commenced to laugh as if it was a joke. The commanders too. And so, we continued on and some of us began to sing lieds or marches. One of my preferable ones is Alte Kameraden, but then again thats just me.
For now I must continue this for a few more weeks, and again I promise you I will come home for leave and visit to help with your delicious pies.
Love, Dietrich
Journal Entry 3# 'Izyum' 8 July, 1942
July 8, 1942 Izyum, Russia
Dear Mother,
This is starting to worry me. Can it be, that we are not at the front at all, and being lied to? Can it be that were just engaging in a mere training exercise to see if we are truely ready to go? I think not, but I still have very gloomy feelings about all of this. It's just that, this is all too easy. No resistance, opposition, not even insurgents. Just burning villages from a far, grassy fields, and lots of mosquitos. That's it. For now however, we have taken Izyum and all I could see of combat was a Stuka in the sky diving on a ground unit like a hawk on it's prey. That siren it made was so demoralizing. Many of my friends starting dropping their weapons and closing their ears to stop the sound from coming through. Such a deadly weapon, that it was deadly to it's unit. Who would have though?
Love, Dietrich
Journal Entry 4# 'The Donets' 15 July, 1942
July 15, 1942 10 km west of Voroshilovgrad, Russia
Dear, Mother
This is absurd! The army has advanced and no opposition, and we are being struck our chances to fight! Earlier this week, we were left out of a major offensive towards Rostov, in the south because supposibly our soldiers lack experience and approriate leadership. At least all are well and safe. As for this war, I am starting have deep regrets. El Alamein seems to be turning against us mother. The war itself looks dim. I really thought Stalin and his Bolscheviks would surrender sooner, but as winter nears I am starting to get scared. I could only imagine how it will come this time as opposed to Moscow and that mess. I only hope I could carry a PPSH for Joseph, as I promised him. Sad to say I have never met a soviet soldier before...
Love, Dietrich
Journal Entry 5# 'Across the Don into the Sunrise' 21 August, 1942
August 21, 1942 somewhere on the banks of the Don River, Russia
Dear, Mother
This is great! We are finally being deployed to a city named Stalingrad on some river called the Volga. Our unit was selected after having accumulated enough experience! We have trekked over 700 kilometers from the outskirts of Izyum to the Urban areas of the Don. We have done it, and now we are recognized as a mighty division of the heer! I can't wait to get my first iron cross. This will sincerely fill me with the outer most joy, and boost my confidence about this war. No more stupidities and rambles about unfairness and incohierencies. Now it is war, and we are all celebrating by just thinking about it. Now, as we go in a cargo train through the Russian fields we had seen some Russian citizens working harvest. Some of us joked around asking 'How do you say work in Russian?' Someone actually responded 'Ukiveg!' and everybody immediately started shouting Ukiveg. I laughed at the joy my unit had spurred and all the chanting and singing I heard from the background, soldiers raising up and shouting 'Prost!' For once in this god for saken campaign, I feel rejuvenated....
Love, Dietrich
Journal Entry 6# 'Bombs of the Motherland' 23 August, 1942
August 23, 1942 Stalingrad, outskirts, Russia
Dear, Mother
We have initiated our first combat maneuver ever. The shock of such adrenline was tantalizing and the sheer rage we carried on was absolutely astonishing. Our soldiers managed to place an enemy unit in such disarray that they surrendered without inflicting casualties. Only a few shots were heard, but they clearly knew they were outnumbered. This is too easy, and I am having a thrill! This will be easier than I thought and I'll be home in a heartbeat.
Love, Dietrich
Journal Entry 7# 'Crucial Change' 10 September, 1942
September 10, 1942 Stalingrad, Outer Tractor Factory, Russia
Dear, Mother
It seems the odds have gone against me. No longer have I enjoyed the supposed splendour of war. Many of my friends have either been killed or gravely wounded. Friedrich was speaking to me while we were doing an assault on a building. Both of us were kneeled down. A man behind us accidently shot his rifle by mistake, and a line of machine gun fire rained upon us like a wind storm. Immediately he died. This forever shocked me, and engraved a wound in my mind. The horrific site of such a thing shunned me for eternity. As I lay under fire seeing my best friend bleed to death. It seemed the best thing was to try to help him, but it was in his head. I stayed there mother... I stayed there for 1 hour just thinking of what to do. Even if the battle was occuring right behind my back, I stayed, waiting for him to just come back to life, as If it was a game. I immediately realized it wasn't after that hour. That moment, I sobbed and wept intensively... so much that some soldiers had to come and pull me together. A loud shreck could be heard from my mouth mother. Why is it that we felt so much pride and joy even at war? When we thought all of us were invisible, and could beat the enemy? We thought just because we managed to survive a month or two in non hostile terrain, we would still survive through hostile ones? I just ask you for forgiveness if my letters have been to joyful for you heart mother.
Love, Dietrich
Journal Entry 8# 'The cold' 25 October, 1942
October 25, 1942 Stalingrad, Red square, Russia
Dear, Mother
My letters are starting to grow scarse and are coming to you in lengthier times. I have been so busy mother. The war is dreadful, and it was a mistake to come to it, thinking it was something normal. What have I done? This is awful. I want to go home now. I can't bear it any longer mother. It is really a greusome sight. The corpses, the gunfire, the blood. It's too much. Earlier today I was in this site called req square. Literally I had 2 squads march with me, and after the battle only 4 of us returned. All slain by bolskeviks. What is the point? Were all the same are we not? I wan't to leave, but I can't. I am starting to grow tense in night. I can't sleep, I can't eat, or I can't think without the sound of mg42's killing squads of Ruskies. I don't know what I must do now.
Love, Dietrich
Journal Entry 9# 'The bitter winter' 24 December, 1942
December 24, 1942 Stalingrad, Urban sector, Russia
I am cold. I am lost. I am miserable. Food rations are growing poorer everyday. I do not even have enough paper to write to you. We've all grown to hate winter. I have grown too cold to the point where I cannot feel my toes and sometimes my fingers. We only have 3 coats in our unit, and we have to take turns using them. Some of us burn our personal items like postcards, pictures, and even the necklaces of our medals. It is humiliating to have to go on the verge of doing such a thing. I had an option to burn a photo of you and my Erika. I chose not to, but now I am in dire need of heat. My body is pale and I am hungry.. I can't wriiiiiiiii --(assume he faints)--
Hello, I am a friend of Dietrich, I must come to inform you reading this letter, that your son is dead. After he had written those last few words he suffered from a severe case of frostbite and numonia. I am a friend of his Alfred, I see he hasn't told you much about me, and I can understand why, but I had the full curtosy of tending to this letter and sending it to you to notify you why your son hasn't sent you any mail since late December. I come to tell you, he was right. All is lost. It is January now, and it seems surrender is our only choice, but the fuhrer prefers death. I hope people back home pray for us, I hope you pray for us and your son. I must leave now, for I have been assigned to a new sector. I hope you feel the need to write back.
Sincerely, Alfred
Journal Entry 10# (conclusion and resume) February 1, 1942
The mail above was sent by corporal Alfred Saltzberg, on January 20, 1942. He died 2 days later shot by a machine gun whiling charging an enemy position. This story is nor a confession nor an accusation and least of all a fantasy. For war is cruel in its best ways, as said by Erich Remarque. In the battle of stalingrad over 2 million people died from disease, starvation, violence, and so many other things. God rest their souls...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HGMo1BCq-EU listen to this while you read the last two entries 9 and 10 (conclusion). It will affect your mind.
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