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:eek: The man takes his scared time getting to business doesnt he?

You could take that in a multitude of ways.

Is the author (me) drawing this out? And taking his sweet time in writing because he's in the moment? Perhaps.

Is Tristan Schnack nervous? Without a doubt. Is he proceeding cautiously because he is nervous? Yes. Does he know the final outcome of the meeting with Himmler? Yes.

Is it a combination of both the author and the character enjoying the moment? Yes.

Now for the more serious interpretation.

I really think the last few installments take place within one hour tops. It seems a lot longer because Tristan Schnack is recalling these events from various points in time [I haven't exactly narrowed it down to when exactly he is writing, but for the most part it is past tense meaning he survives the war in some form or another].

Tristan's story telling is rather, chaotic at times. He thinks of himself not as a natural writer, but in reality he's very good at the task because to me he is personal as he is speaking from the heart.

As my usual message, stay tuned for the next installments where you guys get to learn the fate of Himmler and a small spoiler! (For those paying attention, notice how many times "Heinrich" was said past few updates? If so, notice who doesn't say it? There is a reason why! Stay tuned!)
 
It would be very welcomed if, suddenly, a big bad bear appeared from nowhere and, after raping Himmler, killed him.
 
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It would be very welcomed if, suddenly, a big bad bear appeared from nowhere and, after raping Himmler, killed him.

Like the Bear Jew from Inglorious Bastards? :laugh:

I've got to say, I usually don't like narrative AARs but this one is amazing! Well done sir, keep it going.

Thank you, I am to pleased and am glad to bring in people to read all sorts of styles!

I also have a special teaser, a song by a great cover band that I've been listening to for awhile. Take from it what you want. ;)

[video=youtube;ChNW7Ey7KkM]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ChNW7Ey7KkM[/video]
 
Alptraum
An Alternative History Affair
By TekcoR


The Forest Becomes Black


“What does this offer entail?” I asked. I was caught off guard by what was previously said.

Himmler cleared his throat, making me question the sincerity of the offer. “First, I want to ask you a question. Do you have an interest in my organization, the Waffen Schutzstaffel?”

I thought over the question for a handful of seconds, half my brain thinking that what was being asked was one of Himmler’s notorious trick questions. “Yes, I have keenly followed the Waffen Schutzstaffel, and have commanded men from the organization. They are the bravest men that I’ve seen in combat and deserve every credit that is given,” I finished by adding a reaffirming smile at the end.

He nodded, returning the smile. “I read the after action report,” he bluntly said. “How a Heer general commandeers a weapon he is not authorized to command or operate. I am sure you are aware of the consequences by unlawful action,” he said before stopping for a moment, causing me to gulp. “However, these are under normal circumstances Herr General, which again I am sure you are aware of, the Führer and I have talked over this situation for an hour and have decided your fate.”

I was half intrigued to keep listening to what was being offered; and resisted the urge to raise the Luger and bring a resolution to this awkward conversation. I continued my stare at Himmler’s face, and continued to calculate the situation. I had a good feeling on what the offer was; though knowing that Hitler was involved didn’t help me confirm my suspicions of the offer. The Führer’s knowledge of the situation in any theater was absurdly wrong. A memorandum had recently been circulated directing the armies pushing the Allies out of southern France, to drive across the Pyrenees and reach Madrid no later than the first of August. All involved in the offensive knew Madrid as an unrealistic target, until at the earliest perhaps late September. A more realistic date, given the dramatic shortage of men across the fronts, was August 1945, more than a full year away, if ever.

“General Schnack, the Führer and I believe that for the betterment of the Reich, that a general such of your experience, history and attitude be a great benefit within the elite organization that I run,” Himmler said with great emphasis on the fact that he runs the organization.

I was a bit shocked by the development and my faced showed it. I had not entirely calculated this opportunity. Nerve pulses were racing down my spine causing a tingling feeling, I…this offer would open up new possibilities for my commitment; my duty to what I feel is my obligation to the Reich. “What are the conditions of this offer?”

Himmler smiled; I think he knew he had me where he wanted; though for all the wrong reasons. “Well, this condition is that you will be heading the Waffen Schutzstaffel army group in the western theatre. In addition, to better benefit you, a promotion is in order. Your new rank would be SS-Gruppenführer,” he said lighting up my face.


SS-Gruppenführer Tristan Schnack, and the new collar insignia.​

“I…I accept,” I said, overriding the last vestiges of morality that surfaced. My morality had made its presence known several times; and had been repressed every time. I was brought up to respect my elders, superiors and leaders. I, like millions of others had taken the allegiance not to the Reich but to Adolf Hitler personally. I remember two weeks after the death of President Hindenburg, who I had so admired when I was a boy-soldier, that my unit was ordered into the town square to pledge allegiance. I vividly remember that day, I still a month into being Captain, and I led the men into the square and began the pledge:

"I swear by God this sacred oath that I shall render unconditional obedience to Adolf Hitler, the Führer of the German Reich, supreme commander of the armed forces, and that I shall at all times be prepared, as a brave soldier, to give my life for this oath,” we said with a magnificent thunder, all in unison.

I had broken that pledge on countless occasions. I could easily name a handful of conspirators, and people who had knowledge of the conspiracy but did not do anything. The list of people with knowledge is relatively short, but it is a who’s who list: Heinz Guderian, Julius Ringel, and Erwin Rommel just to name some important names of generals. There were other generals, serving on the Eastern Front who I heard about but their names escape me.

Himmler reached into his briefcase and pulled out a folder that I noticed had a picture of my face and name on it. He slowly opened the folder and shuffled through the documents before finding the paper he wanted. He pulled the paper out and presented it to me. “Congratulations,” he casually began, “the decision and necessary arrangements have already been confirmed. As of this moment, you are a member of the Waffen Schutzstaffel,” he said reaching his hand out to perform a handshake.

I returned the action and smiled, staring into Himmler’s eyes. “Thank you, sir,” I said as tightening the handshake before releasing a second later.

“What will your first order be as a newly commissioned general?” He had taken a few steps from me, but remained near the car.

I grinned, I was going to enjoy this moment. “Well, I am going to put this bluntly. I am not who you think I am. I am dedicated to defending the Reich against enemies; however I view the rise of National Socialism as the primary enemy of the state. For the past several years, since my promotion to Colonel in December 1942, I have been engaged in plans to overthrow the Führer.” The look on Himmler’s face was that of pure shock, he did not react, he stood there speechless.

Approximately thirty seconds passed before Himmler overcame the temporarily paralysis. He began to motion towards his belt, where his Luger previously was. “Aren’t you forgetting something Herr Himmler?” I said as I brought his pistol to view, ready to fire. “I guess you could say, you willingly handed your pistol to an enemy of the state; which if I’m not mistaken, makes you a co-conspirator; which is punishable by death. Is it not Herr Himmler?”

He had stopped fidgeting trying to find anything to attempt to return the status quo into his favor. “Yes,” he quietly said.

I had a huge grin on my face, even though I knew the simple confession had been forced, it was still delightful. “To warn you, Herr Himmler, you can beg and plead all you like, I am aware that you will only betray me. I wish I could extend your suffering like you have to countless others. I am forced to make this simple,” while speaking I raised the Luger to be on level with his head. I paused for a brief second, taking a deep breath and closing my eyes. Gently pulling the trigger, a shot emerged from the barrel and penetrated its target in the forehead, just left of dead center between the eyes.

Himmler lurched forward in his last moments before the momentum forced his body to give way as he landed on his back. I have always viewed the name Himmler’s first name, Heinrich as a stain. Great-grandfather had been named Heinrich. I think he would be proud that a person who done tremendous harm to the reputation of thousands of others also named Heinrich had paid the ultimate price.


 
Well done, Tristan. But now you're an SS General... so tempting...
 
Ding dong the wicked witch is dead!
 
Oh yeah!
 
Now, where to put the body... I like your writing, Sir!
 
Well done, Tristan. But now you're an SS General... so tempting...

Consider it a character flaw. Like most people Tristan Schnack can at times be influenced by opportunities that could increase his chances of fulfilling his mission.

Ding dong the wicked witch is dead!

Which old witch? That old witch!

Nicely done in killing Himmler.

Thanks! Now we only need Hitler, among hundreds of others.


For some reason, I can see the Kool Aid man running through the forest after Schnack kills Himmler saying: "OH YEAH!". You sir, thank you!

Now, where to put the body... I like your writing, Sir!

Thanks for the compliment. The next few installments titled: "No One Must Know!" and "An Obstacle Removed" will help clear issues up about the body.

Stay tuned!
 
Wow caught up with this AAR...good story :D I like it very much so far :)

Tim

Thanks. I know the writing pace has been a little fast for a few, but glad people still continue to follow!
 
Alptraum
An Alternative History Affair
By TekcoR


No One Must Know!


I stood over the body for a moment, looking down at the lifeless body of Heinrich Himmler, I began to question when Rhiley would return. He should have returned by now but he may have been alarmed by the length of time I was personally take with the arrangement. I ceased looking the slain corpse, confident that the soul however deranged had left. I didn’t notice anything unusual about my surrounding and decided to move ahead with the plan.

Leaving Himmler where he was, I positioned the Kübelwagen mere inches away. I stopped the vehicle, and scanned my surroundings again. Nothing again registered as an alarm and I bent down to begin dragging the body closer to the vehicle. It had been awhile since there was a requirement to lift extreme weights, and Himmler qualified as one. It was with great ease I had drug him the four inches closer to the Kübelwagen. However; lifting Himmler over the side of the car and into the backseat exerted me. I struggled for close to eight minutes before I had the deceased sitting close to an upright position.

The bleeding continued from his wound, but was of no concern since it was in a vehicle that would soon no longer be required. A small pool of blood had formed where he initially lay; in addition a trail marked where the body had been drug from. Noticing this stain of evidence, I coolly retraced my steps, careful not to bloody my boots as I kicked dirt over the blood. After feeling confident that the blood had been sufficiently covered, I returned to the Kübelwagen placing the vehicle in reverse. Carefully judging the distance, I stopped the vehicle after I felt I had reached a hundred meters away from the stump.

I exited the vehicle and moved towards the woods on the north side of the road, looking for a suitable device to hold down the pedal. I was scrimmaging near a bush when I noticed a slight movement followed by what sounded like a human noise. I drew closer to the bush, with pistol in hand ready to fire.

“Uncle!” screamed Rhiley. “Don’t shoot me!” continuing to scream he came out of the bush, his uniform slightly ruffled as I lowered late Reichsführer’s pistol into my holster.

“Rhiley, what are you doing here?” I said, trying to continue on.

“I saw you shoot him and I ran, taking cover here,” my nephew said with a clear tremble.

“Shoot who?” I said coyly, trying to hide the obvious.

“Heinrich Himmler!” he screamed, with a brief cry surfacing between the syllables of the fallen corpse’s name. “I thought you were going to bring him to our side. I thought the idea was to bring him to understand that the Führer is delusional and cannot be trusted to ensure victory!”

I paused for a bit, awestruck by the idealism that my nephew had. I wondered a bit if my own sons shared the idealism that National Socialism could realistically win out against the powers of the Allied Nations. “Rhiley, we have been over this! We both know that Himmler would betray us the moment he had the opportunity to! Yes, he may have helped us kill Hitler, but he also may have not.”

Rhiley had ceased his trembling, having had collected himself but not straightening out his uniform. “I still don’t think he should have been killed so early, he could have been used further.”

I nodded, nonverbally agreeing with my nephew. After a few brief seconds of nods and smiles, the intelligence within relative struck. I had been patiently waiting for the moment. “And you thought I had not already explored the options?” I asked while handing him two pieces of paper, the second piece interesting him the most.

‘By the order of the Führer, Adolf Hitler and the Reichsführer, Heinrich Himmler, Rhiley Selig Schnack is hereby awarded a commission into the Waffen Schutzstaffel as the rank of Obersturmführer. He is hereby assigned to report immediately to Gruppenführer Tristan Bernard Schnack.’ Rhiley’s face turned bright red with excitement.

 
Is Rhiley too naïve or am I too pessimistic?
 
Is Rhiley too naïve or am I too pessimistic?

He is a little naive, and I attribute this to relatively his lack of war experience. He's never personally seen his attacker face to face. They've been shot out while on the train by planes; but he had no way of fighting back. They were shot at by artillery in the Eastern Front, but again no way to return fire. For near the entire time of the war, he has been at his Uncle's side.

It could be interesting to see how his naivety later affects the story.
 
Let's hope Tristan hides the body well, and that Rhiley doesn't do anything stupid. He definitely comes across a little bit naïve, or perhaps it isn't naïveté but rather kindness disguised as that? Either way, he could become an obstacle in the future, and one that would be very difficult/painful for Tristan to deal with.
 
Yes, but also necessary
 
Let's hope Tristan hides the body well, and that Rhiley doesn't do anything stupid. He definitely comes across a little bit naïve, or perhaps it isn't naïveté but rather kindness disguised as that? Either way, he could become an obstacle in the future, and one that would be very difficult/painful for Tristan to deal with.

I think you hit hammer on the head of the nail Saithis. I'm not exactly sure to what an extent a conflict would escalate between Tristan and Rhiley. However; we also have to remember that Tristan has sworn to Josef (his older brother), that he would protect Rhiley from harm. It could potentially setup a catch 22 situation.

Yes, but also necessary

Which leads me to the point you bring up. Necessary, yes, but to what extent? How far would Tristan go to save his own skin? And probably not just his own skin, but also that of his families.
 
Alptraum
An Alternative History Affair
By TekcoR


An Obstacle Removed


I slowly opened my eyes after feeling a hand prod against my left shoulder blade. Carefully raising my head I noticed soldiers had arrived and were securing the area as had been expected. The soldier who had knelt down to prod my shoulder blade raised to an upright position to give me clearance to roll over off my stomach. As I completed my roll I glanced over to my left, noticing Rhiley was still laying face first to the side of the road.

The soldier who prodded my shoulder looked me and offered me assistance in getting up; which I gladly accepted. After getting into the upright position I dusted off my uniform with both hands and darted off to Rhiley, who was just now a prodding treatment that I had. “Halt!” I ordered as I began my race. The soldier who was kneeling over my nephew looked up, and after noticing the insignia followed the order.

I reached my nephew who had just opened his eyes and began scanning the surrounding area. “Rhiley, are you alright?” I said as kneeling down on the left side of his body, near the extended arm. I already knew the answer, but the play had to be done.

Rhiley cautiously turned his head to the left and looked at me for a second. “Yes Uncle,” he spoke with a bit of a mumble.

“That’s great. Let me help you up,” I responded while getting to an upright position and extending my arm to assist. In the meanwhile, Rhiley performed the necessary movement to be sitting on his rear inside of face down. He extended his arm and pulled himself using my right arm as leverage. I had never known Rhiley to care much for his appearance; yet I think that his promotion to first lieutenant had made him instantly acquire the skill.

I noticed more troops arriving with their weapons drawn and fanning out to patrol the area. A man who appeared to be the commander of the unit approached the location Rhiley and I were occupying. I instantly recalled this man before; I had seen him on the train with Hausser. We had briefly exchanged the stories about being Colonels within our respective branches. I noticed his insignia had changed since we last met, meaning recently he had been prompted from Obersturmbannführer (Lieutenant Colonel) to Standartenführer (Colonel).

“Herr General, Heil Hitler!” he said while performing the customary greeting. The tone in his voice indicated to me that he was a dedicated member of the regime. I had never met a member of the Schutzstaffel who was not an ardent supporter of the regime. I believe that Rhiley and I were the first and second confirmed exceptions, ever.

“Heil Hitler!” I said, after a three second delay that I used to suppress the hysterical nature that wanted to be presented. I noticed the Colonel’s eyes were carefully reviewing us, trying to find that piece of evidence that I knew would paint us as the culprits of the crime. “Your name is Tychsen, if I recall correctly?”

“Yes, General,” he responded while nodding. “I have a few questions for yourself and the Unteroffizier, if you are both in good health.”

From my peripheral vision I could see Rhiley nodding in agreement that he was in good health; which made me quickly follow suit. “If you don’t mind, Colonel, what was your first name? I can’t seem to recall it from the time on the train.”

“Christian,” he said, smiling. “This way, General,” he motioned as he began walking towards the burning Kübelwagen. The flames had died down since I last saw them before placing myself on the ground. There was a distinguishable stench in the air; Himmler’s remains had been burning for the past quarter of an hour.

The thoughts of what had been carefully planned were called from the storage locker of the brain and now front and center. Rhiley and I had practiced several scenarios; though his idealism and sometimes youthfulness seemed to erode diminish the effectiveness of the perfection I wanted to accomplish. Shortly after shooting Himmler, and calming down Josef’s offspring, we went back to work converting the evidence of the crime.

“Rhiley, help me find a suitable piece of wood or rock to hold down the gas pedal,” I said, while my eyes scanned the ground. Time was of the essence, in this particular situation as my headquarters had been expecting me for over thirty minutes; and would most likely follow standard operating procedures and send out lookouts or communication to the Schutzstaffel at any moment.

“Found one!” Rhiley said, picking up a piece of wood that measured about a foot wide by two, maybe two and a half feet tall.

We headed back to the vehicle; which was parked about a hundred meters from the felled stump. After arriving at the vehicle, I reached for the spare two cans of petrol that we had spent a week scrimmaging up – it had taken this long not to arouse suspicion – and began dousing the vehicle and Himmler’s corpse. After completing that task, I returned the cans of petrol to their original position in the rear of the Kübelwagen. Meanwhile, Rhiley started the vehicle and waited outside the driver’s door for me to get into position.

We looked each other after I had been handed the device to hold down the pedal. I had debated how to best get the pedal stuck, if I placed it gently down, I might get clipped by the vehicle. If I threw it, I had a chance of missing and having to redo everything over. I tossed the wood with a great deal of force, and it hit the top half of the pedal, its weight then forcing it down, accelerating the car. The vehicle began to crawl, slowly gaining speed, and then boom! The Kübelwagen that had served us well, had crashed into the felled stump and burst into flames.

With the car crashed, we sprinted towards the vehicle to assess the damage ourselves. Himmler’s corpse had flown from the backseat and was now impaled through the front windshield. I quickly calculated that Himmler had flown forward and to the left a tad. Based on this information, Rhiley and I walked around the fallen stump, and assumed our positions. Rhiley laid face down, three feet in front of the car, and about seven feet to its left; while laid face down, an equal distance but to the right.

“A tragedy it is,” began Colonel Tychsen, “partisan attacks such as these have been more frequent and violent since the Allied incursion into southern France. It is a miracle that both of you find yourself alive.” Rhiley and I only nodded in agreement.

I waited for three seconds to see if the Colonel would speak again. “Thank you, Colonel. I will be returning to my headquarters and making recommendation that protocol be followed by all dignitaries and generals when in the war zone. It is tragedy that such an honorable and dedicated National Socialist should die in a gruesome way.” Without further ado, Rhiley and I parted ways with the Colonel.