• Crusader Kings III Available Now!

    The realm rejoices as Paradox Interactive announces the launch of Crusader Kings III, the latest entry in the publisher’s grand strategy role-playing game franchise. Advisors may now jockey for positions of influence and adversaries should save their schemes for another day, because on this day Crusader Kings III can be purchased on Steam, the Paradox Store, and other major online retailers.


    Real Strategy Requires Cunning

Raaritsgozilla

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A traitor to the traitor's plot?
 

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Kurt_Steiner

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Knowing Hausser a bit, perhaps Tristan may try to recruit him into the conspiracy.
 

misterbean

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I only know that the men of "Das Reich" revered him. other than that, he was the best they had in the Waffen-SS. I seriously doubt he would betray Hitler. but who knows? this is, after all, an alternate timeline.
 

TekcoR

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I posted a list of Fun Facts about writing Alptraum (Nightmare).

Hope you enjoy.
 

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[video=youtube;94bGzWyHbu0]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=94bGzWyHbu0&ob=av3e[/video]

Plus

[video=youtube;Q8Jbi-BBp3c]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q8Jbi-BBp3c[/video]

Equals what?

Have fun guessing!
 

TekcoR

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Alptraum (Nightmare)
An Alternative History Affair
By TekcoR

The Train Keeps a Rolling

I’m sure we can be heard from miles upon end as the train rumbles down the track outside of Berlin. We are visible. We are vulnerable. If we are attacked, we stuck inside and we will all die. Hausser and I will just be more generals killed in this relentless war against the Allies. I really wish I didn’t decide to ride the train with the SS to the Western Front, but deep down I know that the benefits heavily outweigh the consequences.

Hausser’s long silence after my previous question was finally to be broken. “I am intrigued there Tristan. There are many within the ranks that immediately taken their pistol and give you instant justice; however as you can see, I have not done that. You have caught my interest, please elaborate further.”

My gut felt about a hundred and ten times better. I still feel a bit uneasy. I’m not confident that Hausser will still have my executed after extracting additional information me but I feel the need to continue. “Thank you,” is all I can initially say. Thank you for letting my existence go on for a few more minutes on this train? “There are plots within Heer, but nothing serious has been planned. We don’t know how we can get close to Hitler without causing too much suspicion and making sure the high members of the regime are also present. We do not have access to several members that must be eliminated in order to bring about a successful coup.”

Papa nodded, I think he caught the jest of who I was being specific about. “Hitler is not the problem, is he Tristan?” I nodded as confirmation. “Himmler is it then?” I again nodded to indicate that Himmler was the problem. “Himmler can be a difficult person to get close to; though he does have his own weaknesses. He can be too trusting of certain individuals. His death is not as hard as you think if you have an SS member he trusts.”

I looked at Hausser with a deep stare. Was he offering his services to the conspiracy? “Are you saying what I think you are saying?” I ask him after a few seconds of an uneasy pause. I’m nervous at this point. My hands are all sweaty. My heart is racing. I’m sure if anybody walks by they would be suspicious. I look over my shoulder; there is nobody else within this part of the train, except for a guard who is a good nearly ten meters away. I doubt he can hardly hear us.

Hausser noticed my movements and I knew he could read the tension I was displaying. Committing treason is not easy. It is a gut wrenching feeling that no matter how hard you try will not ease. But I cannot allow my beloved country fall again. I witnessed the destruction first hand at the end of World War One. The aftermath of the war was worse than the war itself, and the victors did not care about Germany. Their own inaction and concerns about their own needs brought upon their current situation.

“Tristan, I can assure you that I am not going to have you placed under arrest,” Papa finally said. “I am not against you. I believe that the Fuhrer has lost his mentality since the beginning of the invasion. There has been no recovery. He has continued the downfall of our great nation. I, I want to share a story with you,” he said. Papa’s one working eye was ready to break out into tears. He collected himself with a deep breath.

“I’m not sure if you were aware of this Tristan, but I was in Warsaw with you at the time of its fall to the Soviets. At the beginning of the invasion, I was as shocked as all within the services that we had been betrayed. I overcame the initial shock within days, along with my fellow officers. I highly believed that our technology and quality eventually halt the Soviet masses; we just had to use it to our advantage and follow military doctrine. We were told to stand and defend at all costs, city by city, yet the orders were dodged or loosely interpreted on our part – we always ended up evading destruction by the Soviets.”

“At Warsaw, the order was given again. Hitler was furious with the loss of Konigsberg. The stand fast order came, this time with the penalty of death for all soldiers regardless of rank seen retreating. I know you can recollect the stupidity of such an order from the Fuhrer. I had lost several men within my division to the orders from the former corporal that defied all logic. Few of my men at that point had belief in the Fuhrer. We along with the LAH were his fire teams, always sent to the hardest section of the front. I thought I could handle the losses, having witnessed war before. I thought that the first war was hell, that carnage unimaginable, the screams haunting, but I was wrong. This second war is worse.”

Paul was near tears now. He carefully readjusted his eye patch and casually wiped tears from his working eye. “In Warsaw,” he said before taking another deep breath. “I lost my faith in the Fuhrer. Over the past few months I had slowly lost it, as every death of another of my men caused my heart to skip another beat. But then, one morning I watched from afar through my binoculars that man who I thought would be my son-in-law killed. His squad had been ambushed the Soviets that morning while patrolling the ruins of the city. They had fought tooth and nail, running out of ammunition, and everybody being shot at least once. I saw the man my daughter had an interest in pick up a wounded comrade and begin running towards our lines within the city. I frantically traced his movements; I hoped that he would survive,” he said as more tears appeared crawling their way down his red cheek, though his hands did not move to wipe them away.

“He luckily dodged the bullets, almost being hit at least once or twice more. He stumbled once before picking himself and his comrade back up and hurriedly ran towards our lines. He was within yards of our lines when loyalists to Hitler appeared at our lines. I could not hear their yells but by the expression my future son-in-law’s face I knew it was not good. I, I, I saw them aim their rifles at his and his comrade who hung over his shoulders. The five shots I heard were the loudest of the war. I helplessly watched as my son-in-law and his comrade fell to the ground.” My jaw dropped. This man was a hero; he had fought off an ambush to the last and was shot for saving another life and his own so they could fight another day. “The official reason for the death of my son-in-law I later found out was for being a coward. That is the day Herr Schnack that constantly relive. I will never regain my faith in the Fuhrer. If you can help me bring justice to the man responsible for my loss, then I am with you.”

This is war. This is god damn war. This is the moment that I dislike, but feel the strongest about. “Paul, I can help you. I cannot imagine your loss as it has affected you. I have similar stories of war. It is a great honor that you shared your story with me, and that you are willing to aid us in our quest to restore honor to Germany.” The heartfelt story eased my mind, as I had not thought about being shot by Allied planes for the past hour. It was kind of a funny feeling. Knowing that at any moment either a loved one or you could be killed regardless of what action they were currently doing. I took a deep breath as the train kept a rolling throughout the countryside.
 
Last edited:

General_Hoth

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A coup against the nazis WITH the SS? That's certainly new!
 

Kurt_Steiner

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At least, with some of the SS.
 

TekcoR

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misterbean

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well, anything is possible. apparently, after the Hungary decable in 1944 (1945?) even the LSAH gave up on him.
 

TekcoR

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Alptraum (Nightmare)
An Alternative History Affair
By TekcoR

Screeching to a Halt

A few days had passed but I could hardly tell, we were still far away from southern France, though we were not in Germany at this time. My sense of being hit by Allied air had returned in more dread. We were now a lot closer to the Allies area of operation; closer to the combat zone. Trains loaded with men, material and dreaded Tiger tanks were a high priority target. I wanted off the train, but not yet being at my destination it really felt like a stupid idea to get off the train and walk the remaining distance to Paris with my nephew. It was tempting though, especially with the threat of an airstrike, but I resisted my fears and continued.

I decided the best way to calm my fears about an air attack while raising another fear was resuming my discussions with Hausser. We had a tactical meeting the other day, planning routes of attack and expected resistance from the Allies in southern France. We had not really mentioned about the plans to remove the regime from power, but really only agreed to continue on our obligations to the Reich before the final removal of the Nazi leadership. There was no timetable, only plans.

I walked from my seat in the luxurious train car reserved for generals towards where I knew Hausser said I could find him. He had a car reserved specifically for him, an officer amongst the officers. Not unusual. We all had our privileges that we used for either our or our families advantages. I guess this was just Hausser’s advantage, which did not really seem as extravagant as mine. I could say I was more selfless in my acts, as I used mine to my family’s benefit.

My eldest son, Philipp, had wanted to enlist into the Waffen SS because of their status, but I fearing for his safety and my lack of connections with the organization at the time, secured a commission to the rank of second lieutenant of a garrison division in Denmark. He scolded against my intervention and only accepted the appointment because his mother had persuaded him that his life was worth more than what he imagined it to be. Although initially disappointed with me, he has since come around and recently wrote to me – he had left off dad to letters written home – stating that he has come to understand why I acted the way I did and thanking me. He has since earned his promotion to captain, and enjoys the offerings of life within Copenhagen.

My second son, also the youngest of my children, Sebastian, I have seen quite often during the war. I had developed some contacts within the Luftwaffe, over the years. Sebastian had developed an interest in flying ever since he was a young boy, and wanted to be a fighter pilot. Though he was not fulfilling his desire of flying in one of our latest planes, the recently unleashed Messerschmitt Me-262, he was protecting the capital of Berlin as head of one of the FlaK batteries stationed throughout the city. I got to see him a few times, but mostly hurried events as he had seen a lot of combat. Berlin was almost under constant either perceived or real air raids. If I wasn’t in the Fuhrer bunker, I was generally in an air raid shelter. I hate air planes.

I really don’t mention my daughter often, I tend to favor my male descendants because they and I have something to relate to – all seeing the dread that war causes upon us. Plus, my sons and I all share that unique sense of being officers in service of the German people. I do wish sometimes that my Alexandra would be an Alexander; it is comforting at some level to know that only two of my offspring face chances of dying defending their country. I do enjoy my rare visits back to Norddeich, as it gives me a chance to experience my daughter’s cooking. Her mother has taught her well and she will make a good wife to her fiancé. As a gesture of love, I did recently obtain a transfer of my future son-in-law to the FlaK unit that my son commands.

I had found my way to Hausser’s car, but he wasn’t there. I was a bit surprised but that is the essence of not knowing I guess. I walked a bit further into the well decorated car, lavished with expensive rugs and a finely crafted wood desk before hearing a slight hissing sound. That sound quickly turned louder, and louder and my body began to feel slight vibrations before being violently thrown forward. I barely had time to bring my arms forward to catch myself before my face hit the floor. All 82 kilograms of me was now laying flat against the floor. What the hell had just happened?

 
Last edited:

Raaritsgozilla

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Airstrike?
 

TekcoR

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TekcoR

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Alptraum (Nightmare)
An Alternative History Affair
By TekcoR

Hell on Wheels

I laid flat on my stomach against a rug, my eyes looked at the rug and a thought registered that the area I was laying on was red. Oh fuck, was I bleeding? Using my arms I traced my body as best as possible and didn’t feel any entry or exit wounds. In retrospect it would have been smarter to use my eyes, the whole rug was red. It was not a dark red either, like my blood. I had seen my blood before from previous wounds suffered in a distant war.

Okay. I was okay. I picked myself up while thinking about what the hell had just happened. I don’t think the attack or whatever was aimed at me, why would the whole train stop? What about a saboteur? French partisans had been more active within the past few months with the previous Allied invasions. Anything to slow down our reinforcements would be beneficial to the Allies incursion into southern France. Oh God, I thought to myself while running out of the train car, we are sitting ducks for any Allied aircraft in the area.

The sight outside of the train car disturbed me. I immediately heard the screams and moans from men around me. My eyes pinpointed the cries for help, located about a dozen cars down. It looks like my saboteur train of thought was correct. I saw three passenger cars that had been blown off the tracks. It looked like the track had been blown off and into…nothingness. I stood still for a moment, shocked by what had transpired. It had been nearly two years since my last hint of combat back in Warsaw. Before Warsaw, combat would have been witnessing the Freikorps in Berlin before the rise of Hitler. I tend to forget the gruesome pseudo-civil-war that was fought. Before that though, the last time I remember combat was three days before the armistice on November 11th, 1918.

Combat is gruesome. Combat is what I knew from mid-1917 until the armistice. It was difficult to adjust to life without the threat of deadly artillery strikes. Often at night I still thought about the screams of fallen comrades and enemies. Once I heard dripping water from city hall that reminded me the rattle of machine gun. One my of children slammed a door so hard one time that I instantly fell to the ground fearing that an artillery shell had hit. I miss combat. Not in the sense of the gruesomeness, but of the comrades and companionships that are built. Civilians who say peace is the answer are naïve. There will always be war.

I find it ironic now that I am trying to bring about the end of war, but I have my own reasons. I do not say that there will always be war, that thought is ridiculous and cannot be sustained, but rather we as a race will never be able to eliminate differences to such a degree to eliminate the threat of war. As these thoughts are racing my mind, I am trying to find the location of my nephew, Rhiley. I had upheld a promise to my brother several times that I would have his son by my side at all times; to watch him and make sure he survived the war. I had granted him some leeway in his proximity to me, but he never left for the front to see combat. What his father didn’t need to know would say that way. I think he’s up near the front of the train. He had mentioned earlier about going to see some men of the famed Hitler Youth Division.

I ran with all my heart, hoping and praying that I could reach the front of the train. I passed the section of the rail line that had been subject to the explosives and it was horrific. At least three dozen soldiers were dead, and another few dozen injured to various degrees. I had heard horror stories of before of resistance movements targeting our trains. The stories didn’t even compare to the actual event. I felt as if I way back in the Argonne during the last days of the war. The scream of the wounded haunted me again. All I needed to fully reemerge myself into war was the terrifying sounds of machine guns.

“Uncle,” I could hear a voice scream from what I judged to be a twenty yards away. I ran towards the direction as the yell for “Uncle, Uncle” became louder. The voice soon came into my eye sight and I hugged my nephew who appeared at least physically to be in good shape. My pledge to my brother still remained intact. Though what I heard next sent shivers down my spine. Above the trees I heard the distinct sound of pistons humming.

 
Last edited:

Kurt_Steiner

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The Resistance comes back to kill the survivors?
 

Raaritsgozilla

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German reinforcements :ja:
 

TekcoR

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TekcoR

Alternative Affairs Specialist
17 Badges
Jul 23, 2003
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  • Victoria 2: A House Divided
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  • Hearts of Iron IV: Expansion Pass
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Alptraum (Nightmare)
An Alternative History Affair
By TekcoR

End of the Line

My eyes quickly turned toward the loud humming sound. It was hard to make out against the blue background of the endless sky, but it looked like Mustangs. This spelt trouble. With my nephew behind me we hurriedly ran to find Hausser. The future of our nation depends on his survival. He like myself is a unique man willing to do what is best, thus his survival is essential. I think this is a rotten situation and my gut agrees with me.

The planes had clearly spotted us; I could notice whenever I glanced upwards they were descending towards us. I notice several of the men that had been in train cars quickly departed, some throwing down their weapons. Others were getting ready to defend themselves. But it seemed hopeless. Most of our armament of bolt-action rifles, and submachine guns would be helpless against the firepower of two Mustangs. I do not blame men for running, for I was doing the same thing. Well was going to, finding Papa was my objective.

My nephew had been near the front of the train when I rescued him. The last position of Hausser was at his office near the back of the train. That didn’t make sense, since I had been at his train car when the explosion hit. I trusted the officer that told me of Hausser’s whereabouts. It is plausible that after the explosion that Papa did go about looking for me personally. We had become intertwined over the past few days.

We had just passed the ruins of the explosion and I felt uneasy again, but I got over it. As we darted between wounded men, I heard a final swoosh of the Mustangs before the distinct sound of bullets came crashing to the ground. Rhiley instantly pushed me down to the ground before he himself landed to my left, both of us unharmed. After a few seconds the screams of the old and newly wounded could be heard. The pistons of the Mustangs had overwhelmed the cries for help, but after the disruption temporarily disappeared the pleas were back with greater fury.

Rhiley and I picked ourselves back up after the planes ascended to realign themselves for another strafe. We dashed another quick few feet before falling against the ground again, repeating this process several times before we were within a dozen or so feet of Hausser’s train car. I noticed what…Oh God looked like…, was it him? Could it be? His black tunic covered up any visible sign of any wounds, but he was clearly on the ground. As Rhiley and I closed the distance between ourselves and the corpse, having to flatten to the ground two times as more Mustangs joined the carnage.

I stood above the lifeless corpse. Suddenly I was transported back to the Argonne Forest. The Americans had just pushed through our defensive lines earlier in the day. Just before nightfall we launched a counterattack, driving the Americans back to their lines. My best friend, who shared the name of my second son, a Captain Einswald, had died. A bullet had pierced right below his nose and carried upwards into his brain, exiting the rear. He fell instantly, dead. The loss of Captain Einswald forever changed my life.

Just then I noticed that one of the Mustangs came to a fiery crash just a hundred or so meters away. I wondered what caused the sudden demise of one of our tormentors. Loud cheers from the men could be heard, they had run back from the woods towards the stalled train. I perched my eyes upwards just in time to catch a glimpse of a Messerschmitt Me-262 soar about five hundred feet above the train.

My brain returned to its original thought. I moved my eyes from their heavenly graze back to the lifeless corpse before me. His whole body was motionless. Both of his eyes were clearly visibly. One of them was nothing but a blotch of darkened skin that nearly made me vomit. Eerily the sight before me reminded me of Captain Einswald. Paul Hausser, a man who had quickly earned my trust and respect had passed from this hellish world.

 
Last edited:

Kurt_Steiner

Katalaanse Burger en Terroriste
Feb 12, 2005
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Ouch. That changes the situation, methinks...