著作権侵害に立ち向かう.....................................3 序文................................................................6 第 1 章............................................................8 第 2 章..........................................................16 第 3 章..........................................................22 第 4 章..........................................................31 ~~................................................................40 Help Not Steal.........................................42 First – Simple English.............................45 Part 1.........................................................46 Part 2.........................................................54 Part 3.........................................................60 Part 4.........................................................68 ~~................................................................77 Stand Against Piracy..............................79 Preface – English.....................................82 Chapter 1..................................................83 Chapter 2..................................................91 Chapter 3..................................................97 Chapter 4................................................105 クレジット N.A.S.A.の地球の写真の礼儀。 Trala Inc.による翻訳。 一 実行している裸生産 三版は – 二印刷 001-3.2-3japd – 2011-10-13 dc:source 0011371039949192183719301fd7be1ac972c フラグメント 地球 Robert Skyler 著作権© 2007-2013 すべての権利予約 アメリカ製 何を考えて世界を教えてください。するか、 レビューや評価の購入、そのページ上でこの 本を破る購買。 この作品に表示されるすべての文字は架空の ものです。実在の人物に任意の似ている、生 きているのか死んで、純粋な偶然です。 著作権侵害に立ち向かう これであなたはこの作品を共有する一人一人 のセカンダリリーダーのライセンスを購入す ることで、著作権侵害を阻止 するため。彼ら はあなたにライセンスを購入した場合、あな た自身は、この読み取るために、プロバイダ を求める最初の人はいるか、または現在、自 分自身を購 入すると思われる場合。 今。 フラグメント 地球 コンセプション エピソード 001 S.S.H.U.T. “悪を識別する” 日本語 版は 要約 狂気に壮大な冒険が,短編小説のこのシリーズ は,生存の繰り返しに鎖に結合する人間の精神 を探る。 ~~~ 勝者によって書かれた歴史は,ほとんど彼らは 本当に起こったのイベントが記載記録されま す。消毒と簡略化を保護したり,非難する私た ちを自分たちのレッスンの損失ですか？ 彼のバンカーに包囲された第二次世界大戦の 終わりに,彼のファンタジーは,彼の周りに崩 れ,ヒトラーは彼の脱出になります。南,彼が最 後のチャンス,一最終スタンド,もう一つのレッ スン履歴ハエは私たちを教えるのを忘れた。 序文 人 々は自分のために何を考えることができ れば？い いえ、私の周りのアイデアを回転さ せるわけではない – 一度して、繰り返し洗浄 – ロティサリーで非常に多くの鶏のように収 まるように。しかし、すべての時間が尋ねる ことによってそれが彼らの反応を超えてス パークすることができます、私 はこれ以上あ りません到達？そしてそれをやって。あなた はそれができるか危険を想像することはでき ますか？ これは、あなたの耳の間にスペースを介 しての航海です。虚無の広大な未開拓の孤独 な隔たり が、過去の有効期限の日付以降に一 度知的思考の唯一のエコー、今長期で会社を 守った。代わりに、何か、なぜのいいが行わ れたため、いつどのように、そし て、どこか ら真実をので、再度理解することができませ んでした個人的な曖昧だけナンセンスされた かどうかを確認する旅。 フラグメント 地球一生に一度の旅行で す。 。 。他の耳にするを参照してください。 第1章 フライト – ナチスドイツは、1945 年 4 月 28 日 – そ れは子供のファンタジー、ベルリンでこ こ数週間 です。私は何が起こっているかを理 解できる大人に会うているが、まだ真のこと を知っているが、我々は理解してこれが、そ れはうわべだけの幻想であり、夢、 ここでは ミサイル発射に対して、銃や手榴弾と戦って 狂気の中心部にある攻撃や爆撃。私の現実の その後の変幻自在な変換では、メッセン ジャーとして私の仕事 – 私は十分な私の周り のすべてを所有している忍び寄る狂気を食い 止めるために明快な維持 – ヶ月、数週間前に ちょうど私の近所であったことをエキサイ ティングな新しい場所に私を駆動する。 私は悪との夢の戦いの本部として今日は 私の後ろに立っている建物内に年間の学校に 通った。私 は定期的に私の母のための氷を フェッチ一般的なストアが暗く光って、その 不足している屋根を突き破って火明かりの低 い雲の反射から、私の前にある、水平線 か ら、それぞれの新しい爆発のフラッシュ私以 降恐ろしいと、そのウィンドウの不気味な影 パルスアウト。これらは、すべての悪夢は、 スポーン鍛冶ていると私 は、彼らが、すべて の時間のように残る私は一人っ子であるにも かかわらず、私は絵を描くすべての新しい息 が、私はまだこの夢のマスターできる確認想 像して ください。 メッセージは、ベストのポケットに固定 すると、私は総統-バンカーに私の使命とを押 す。と私 は夏の過去に、この非常にゲームを 練習していた公園を通って路地を実行する。 瓦礫の山店舗から脇道を押しダッキング、兵 士たちを除いて、これらの日も朝の この時期 に少ない見られるように誰もがある。少なく とも私はそれの朝だと思います。 目の私は、次のスプリントを次の後ろに 隠れるタンクは昨日はありませんでした。最 後の赤軍の 侵略の寒気の高水位標としての生 気のない船体に立って以降、その主要な位置 のための私の現在のパスにある理想的なカ バーです私。はもうとにかく – – 路地には、 ここにバンカーがあり、壁に違反だけ子ども の想像力が、この戦場を移動しているこの通 りがある、フロントラインはありません。 私はくすぶっているタンクのホイールに 対して交流傾くようにロシアは、この近くに 来て“それ はできません”“そう、最近は、”私 がささやく。 “ あなたはこのゲームでの宿泊 をご自分の足で考えなければならない” 私“ は 簡単に近所の朝の最後にライブ”自分自身を思 い出させる生存率になることがヘル メットは あなたを見る前にヘルメットの上につばを見 てと同じくらい簡単です。 “ たびに私たちは 再びそれを押すと、その火は遠く私たちを溶 かし、私は知っている人は死んでいる、”自分 が“そのために言われて何かがある。” を思い 出さ せる私は決して自分自身に自分の死亡率 は大いに楽しむの特権を否定している。 *** 最後に総統-バンカーに到着し、私はメッ センジャーの入り口に這い、ここで私は遠く に慣れて 沈黙とセキュリティライヒの首相の 外側の庭で自分を検索した後。自分のペース が鈍化し、息は、慎重に私はガードが、男お そらく酔ってのめまい像再び私を停 止しよう とする場合、メインヤードに進んで私と一緒 に追いつく。私は“私を離れてあなたの手を入 手！このメッセージは、総統ためのもので す。 ” 彼は大声で 彼が行くことはできませ ん。私は自分自身を繰り返します。 彼 は 、近 く で 私 を 引っ 張 る 私の 口 をカ バーし、言う、“静かなを！”彼は周りを見回 すと、“あなたは遅すぎる。”私は手遅れでは ない。私は決して遅れています。 “ 総統はな くなっています。” “ ゴーン？ ” 私は彼の手を介してエコー – 単語の誰もが誰ももう彼らはなくなっている 金は、これらの日死者のための使用していま す。 “ ゴーン？ ” 私は今話す自由に繰り返し て、“何が言いたいのか？” “いや、いや、親切なの行っていないこと は、”彼の指は小さなオブジェクトを生成する ように彼は、空に向かって指して応答し、市 内の持ち上げ軽飛行機。 “ ゴーン ” と彼は言 う、“総統が残っている。彼はバイエルン州に 向かって南に逃げています。” 〜〜〜 私はかつて繁栄の首都の熱烈な遺跡にダ ウンを見つめ、空の顔のことも、サイレント 反射に振り 向いたとして “ 私は時間内にそこ のあなたを得ることができるとは思わなかっ た”私は、鳴り響くエンジンで叫んだ。現在進 めて赤軍のかかとの下で崩壊しつつ ある。描 画は彼の反射に、私が忘れられない、千征服 征服者の欲望を失った人の目で見ることがで きますが、この男は酔わされ敗北でもイン チ“あなたは大胆な 戦いを言えば、”私は、自 分の欲望をなだめた“しかし、あなたはこの結 果に自分自身を責めることはできない。すべ ての適切なタイミングですべての権利動き を した。運命は、単にこのいずれかをあなたに されませんでした。” “私は、より良いハンナを行っていること が、”私のとりとめのないの静寂を打ち破りま した。 “ああ、マイン総統は、”私は“これは他の 方法をされている？あなたはまだ終わりで意 気揚々 とされる可能性があります。私は、こ の確信しています”に行って戻って自分の行動 をもたらす私は翼にディップとしてひょうき んを制御します。私はまだ話し か？彼は、私 はやっと今私を表示するには、この航空機を 飛行していた知られていることができません でした。私が何を言っていた？それは重要で すか？いずれ かの私たちのリスニングです か？ “ 私は、より良い前回でした ” と、彼は私 に向かってターンとしての彼の席に前後に揺 動は、驚 くほどの熱意をもって中断されま す。しかし、彼の継続に私の支援を目を細め て唯一の障害の知識は、我々は、南ので、多 くの命を犠牲にして開いたままにして 我々の 安全な廊下を通って低空飛行としての彼は、 私たち下でストリーミングドイツの田舎の静 かな判断に戻って視線を討伐見ている。彼は それの価値はありま すか？私は、瞬間のほん の小さなの疑問の答えが来ると、それがな かった場合、私は、1 つを望んでいないだろ う。それは私がこのような質問をするもので はな いのです。沈黙が私を打つ。 *** 安全にいくつかの夢の終わりのような着 陸を着いて、私は何を私に聴力を失ったかも しれないと 思ったモータのドローンは総統 は、彼が、私には理解できない何かを呟く 我々のアプローチのように繰り返して尋ね思 い切っていないと述べた。ホイールの下に 大 まかな芝生のもみ合いが私を目覚めさせる。 私の心は再び打つ。 ss ののガードは、航空機 の側に駆け寄って、ドアを開きます。ヒト ラーが、停止を得るためになります。彼は、 元に戻る私の瞳の奥に見える – ほとんど私を 介して – と言う、“私をお許しください。”バ ブルが喉を満たすように私はフリーズが言う 何を飲み込むと、彼は彼の最後の言葉を得る に傾いているように “ 次回は有利 になるだろ う。” “私は、マイン総統必要になります確信し ています！”噴出で私は、返信、または私は思 います。私は全然何も言っはっきりと言うこ とはできません。 。 。おそらく彼はどちらか でした。 〜〜〜 田 舎 を通 じ て 、 私 た ち掃 引 オ フ、私を 待って装甲車にシャッフルされます。 “ 最新 のレポートは、赤軍が予想外の弱さの任意の 時点でここにいることが予測、”ヒトラーに添 付 の ss の の 担 当 者 は “ 失 わ れ る 2 番 目 が な い！”と言います。 この重みを感じて、私はアメリカ軍に降 伏して西に逃げるの短いも、戦争の最高の秘 密向け、よ り速く、私が想像だけで救いが私 を救うかもしれないを押してください。私は 無意識のうちに無数の魂の奴隷化を手助けし ていた;いいえ、私たちの第三帝国の 前に罫線 の背後にある自分の運命を築くが作成私はす ぐに私達がダウンして、彼らの浅い墓には、 長く曲がりくねった未舗装の道路を私たちに 参加を参照してく ださいことを恐れていた合 理的な人は拒否する賞を守るために合理的な 軍隊が違反した可能性が守備位置の克服ホ ラー：目的地に行きました。 第三帝国と勝利ソ連の将来はこの山我々 の要塞内のレイアウトのための血を流した。 その外部の 防御は私達の後ろに私たちのエ リートの ss の軍の残党と、我々として準備に 座って – そのベルリンの防衛を放棄した – 南 流し、ベルリンはヒトラーで赤軍最高司令官 ジューコフの失望に落ちるままで発見されて いないその遺跡。しかし、この詐欺を見て – 実際にした後にのみ – ジューコフ、大ドイツ に残っている抵抗の本体のみに向かって南彼 の力をオフになります。 。 。私たち。 第2章 ファイト 私 とこの恐ろしい戦争の終わりまでの間演 習の果て しなく行に 1 つ以上の退屈な戦いと して立っている山でチェコに南を見ると、私 は自分自身を思い出させる、“全面的勝利は、 例外があります。 ” 私たちの背後 にあるベル リンの戦いのように私の前にこのボヘミアン リダウトは単に赤軍隊賞と私はその唯一の西 部目撃されるようになった。 西に米第一陸軍と私の部門は、不本意な がら、私は我々の同盟国の軍隊のアプローチ を見て私の 無駄な欲望に引っ張った。私は認 めざるを得ない戦術自然は誰一人。彼らは、 ひそかに何もしなかった私は、最終的にこれ を防ぐには何もできなかった、ドイツ に戻っ てエルベ川の上の私たちの男の子と会って調 整するために、一緒に埋め込まれたリエゾ ン。 ドイツの劣等感にもかかわらず、私は彼 らが日常的にはるかに優れた力を我々のロシ アの同盟国 は、このような自信を持って表示 される微妙なの、この非常に不足しているた め倒す見ていた。 “ たたくさんはハエのよう に、ハンマー”ナチスの精力的な演習と赤軍の 特異ソリューションを提供します。想像もつ かない後、彼らは頻繁に顔に “ 勝利ので あっ ても、少なくとも合理的な定義を達成するた めに毎ターンで失敗し、”自分だけを検索する だけで、盲目的にも神話は常に不可避的に悲 惨な最終的な障害の 兵士と機械の果てのない 列に追いかけること我々の敵の。 私は自然の高貴な獣のいずれかの遅い苦 渋の死を見ているような、彼らと私の数週間 で述べたよ うにフィールドに同盟国を視聴す るにはでした。それは詩的で無知の栄光と拷 問の暴君の非現実的なスケジュールを満たす ために火の中にスローされるので、多 くの命 を見ていた。彼らは、ウォンはまだ何とか彼 らがこれまでに入り、確実には反対する軍は これまで二度同じ兵士に苦しんだが、“と言う ことされているす べての戦いに敗れた。 混乱のこのソ連国家の “ スターリン、 ” 頭 が“もう一つのロシア皇帝は、そのためのコス トも得 ることに高いがされたすべての戦いに のみ結果として勝利を要求する”として立って いたない軍の歴史が今まで目撃したような赤 軍の血がこの男の目標の追求に 流れていた。 ソ連が文字通り母なるロシアのナチス占領下 の土壌は、彼らが服を着、兵士として提示私 の前には本日、同社の徴用農民の無慮数百万 の血をきれい に洗ったいた。 “ 何がすべてだった？ ” 私は絶えず自分自 身を尋ねた。 “報酬には、無能な将軍は、1 つ 以上の金メダルの負担重量は、または数十万 以上の命を犠牲にし得た最後の死だけは、そ れらを与えていたもう一つの人々を支 配する 権利を戻って請求してください。 ” の軽蔑に は、 “ 自分のシステムの方法論、 ” 赤軍を見 て、何をもたらすか、私の喉に胆上昇は、こ れらに話すように、 “我々の同盟国は、”それ が話されている前に、私はつぶやく内のすべ ての感情を測定する必要があります、ように 彼らの司令官の目を通していくつかの知覚侮 辱や裏切りの名の下に独自の銃剣に突き刺さ される方はどっしりとした若者の未来の世代 を危険にさらしていません。 私の考えはちょうどここで、今ロシア人 の若者、これらの殺人者は、故障私は誇りを 飲み込ん で、自分自身を思い出させる、短い 収集 “ 2 つの 害悪 のう ちの 小さ い方 。 ” つま り、これは二人とも自分自身を取り除くよう に我々は試してみてくださいこれが 可能とさ れるよりもはるかに私たち自身のコスト以下 で別のを取り除くように 1 つの邪悪を使用す る絶好の機会です。他のすべての傾きは 1 つ よりも二した決 定;それが唯一の道徳が出席決 して火を売却したこと。 *** 正当な理由の化身は、赤軍の到着の機械 の腕で自分自身を示した。不思議な言葉が適 切に記述す ることができませんでした。この 気まぐれで戦争は後半ので、全体として不全 の人を共有する独自の前進部隊を破壊するた めにはこれまで予測後退につながる、 まだそ の可能性を満たすために失敗して管理戦車と 無数の大砲、数千人を擁立彼らの攻撃の。ま たその時は、その局ファーム少年血の次の上 げ潮を証言する準備 ができて後ろにナチスを 発見した。 力ベルリンの南にはナチスの山の砦に、 このマシンの中から自分自身を解放しなが ら、の私が唯 一の地平線上に雷雨と聞いてい たが好き。これは、赤軍はそれは、ナチスの ss の部門は、これらの整地を生き残るために 主に次の朝も例外ではないだろうその まま攻 撃されたの標準として、私はため息をつい て、この方法ですべての包囲を開くために標 準的な操作手順であった。 切株やフィールド前夜の弾幕から減少山 の砦周辺の森林は、ナチスの外部防御が破壊 され、まだ 見て、地形の新しいカオス形成 は、ひとしくその弁護ので、ダンスのような ので、前に多くの実施であった。私の目は、 私は破壊のこの光景から、背を向けるこ とが できなかったので見て前に必然性が展開す る“その催眠の魅力にあぜんとさせる。”ナチ ス軍は、赤軍も歩くに深い死体の山に置き換 えられてもいるが進ん で鎧を停止しなかっ た。 これはもう起こり得ない！私は自分自身 に叫んだが、ジューコフは、火災に対して しっかりと 立っていたとして、この災害の コースを変更するには無力だった。彼の行動 の論理が私をよろよろ。この男は、兵士の波 後のご注文の波がどこに行くしか楽しみ いた が、ロシアの血で地面のもう一つの足を開く と。彼の欠陥の認識が存在しない、私は彼の 目には、それが自分たちの生活やされたこと を読み取ることができ ます彼とそれぞれの攻 撃は彼の真実が否定されないため横に続けて 失敗したように、彼は得て粉砕した。 第3章 右 次 の日はすぐに存在が均等に大軍をしない ように凝固流れで離れてシャッフルにした生 活の中でコストを持つフィールドを獲得し た。次の障害は、トンネルの防御 – 山城へと 導く – 調整タンク一連の攻撃で征服されるよ うになった。 “ スターリン三の重戦車は、 ” 私の対応ア レクセイは、これらのモンスターがフィール ドにデ ビューしたように笑みを浮かべて言っ た。これらの不透過性の巨大は私の周りのす べてを振って、離れた百ヤード以上の我々の 観測ダッグアウトガタゴトと音を 立てて通り 過ぎるトンネルの入り口に向かって進んで は“ソ連の兵器の最新のは、”彼は、梁。てい ない時もどちらか鋼のほとんどの固体塊が球 根砲塔の突き出 て大砲だけで区別これらのタ ンクは、後半にするためのナチスが答えを 持っていた驚きされるようになった。 一般的に以下の証人もう一つの英雄的な 餅、私の飢えても構わないと思っても、感動 と私は食事 のために新たに形成フィールド本 社への道を退いた私は頻繁に操作を観察する ことができます。アレクセイ、決してステッ プ以上、または私たちが食事を見つけ たとし て、私の後ろに 2 つが合流 – 少なくとも私 は、これが食事されることを期待。 とフロントラインの興奮から欠けている 気を散らすことなくここに食事を下向きにし て希望しな い – 私は死の間の中間を検索し て、私は彼の軍曹で軽蔑されて兵士にある空 間にぼんやりと見つめて – 私は自分の計画を 熟考しながら今日はの不当な放任の攻撃の。 それは安全軍曹に近づく見付ける、我々は固 形ラインから、いくつかの選択肢のルックス とすぐに 彼が議論されていた問題を議論して いた彼に続いて、彼の軽蔑と弟子後退した。 それは彼が何も素朴な農家の少年のファ ンタジー以上のものとして却下ものだった： ss のの兵 士たちが、彼はすぐとして許され、 その後に取得する唯一の撮影“や、同じ方向か らおそらく別の兵士が負傷した。”しかし、彼 の言葉に悲しいみると、彼は一 時停止 – に傾 いた私のアメリカ陸軍の制服の完全な不慣れ で取って、静かに、私たちに言った、“私もこ れを見てきました。”アレクセイはダイニング テーブルへ向かっ てステップとして、私は懐 疑的な目でロシアの軍曹を見た。軍曹は“私は 船長から受信した正確な応答されているこ と”と答えた。私は首を横に振った。彼は “私 は、これらの噂最初の手をつぶして、本当に あるので、”彼は、テントの周りを注意深く見 て言った、“私はこの自分を見てきました。” “使者が到着したとき、我々が道路にレー ルの家に滞在していた ” 私はアレクセイは、 座って テーブルに向かって歩いて、彼は続け て “ それは数ヶ月前だった。は珍しいことで ミッション – 彼は、私たちは、抵抗の戦闘機 のサージに対処するため後戻りしていた私た ちに語った。我々は何があった銃声の最初 は、シリーズで見られるようにサイトに着 い たときに丘の上の家から私たちに来た。私た ちは、自分の位置を両側に背の太陽の周り一 周した。それは彼らに、我々はわずか 4 人の 兵士を失いました、ダー ス以上簡単に十分な 戦いだった。” 少し彼の声に近いで斜は静かに成長 し、“家の裏の納屋が私の狙撃兵の注目を集め ました。。彼 は、自分の位置を確立しようと しているナチスの ss のの役員を撮影する私は そこにそれらの全体の巣がなければならない と言った私たちを維持大砲をサポート するた め、正午納屋がばらばらに吹いた周りと呼ば れる。 “だから最後に、我々は、丘を歩いて何を 私たちが発見期待か？ ” うっとり私は点滅。 と、私た ちはそれらの全体杭を見つけること を期待していたすべての私は、彼がどれもい たんだな – これらのファーム収穫のツールの いずれか – “我々は、単一の担当者は大砲の爆 発の力からリブを介しても刺しに座って見つ かりました、悪くなるので、私は彼に微笑ん で、胸の中で彼を撃った。彼が戻っ て微笑ん だ。私は、彼が数回を撃ったとしても、私が 見ていたか、この男は死んではない勘違いし ていた私の笑顔が地面に落ちた。私は彼を 撃ったたびは、腕で あなたを打つ少し私より のように見えた。 “とにかく、”軍曹は再び辺りを見回 す、 “ 我々は、囚人を連れて行った彼を返送 し、それにつ いて話されて別の単語なしで移 動し、言葉だけな事項は、トップダウンから 来ているので、これらの偽の敗北の噂を窒息 させる ” と、彼、大声で言った、 “ そし て私 は！” 私の周りの反応を探して見て – 私のハン ドラアレクセイは、彼の食事を終えたので、 長い有する人、私は、私もいた注意した私を 終えて – しかし、彼は今、一見我々の議論に は興味がないオフにうなずいて座って、何も 見つからなかったので、私は続けた軍曹 は、“これは珍しい話ではない？” 彼 は 、 ア レ ク セ イ の処 分 の メ モを取っ て“私は行く必要があります” と言ってうなず いた、ひんしゅくを買う“それは私が知ってい る唯一の真実だ。” “ しかし、 ” 私は彼が立っていたとして、 出て行ったという“。。。。。あなたを知って いる素敵な”、およびコマンドに立って、私た ちは同様に外我々の方法を作って、相手をつ ついて。 アレクセイは、先導して私のほうに向き 直った、駐車トラックの間停止して減速し、 警告“はこの辺りに行うには最善のものである ことを確認します。” “私はここから約ノット、”私は微笑ん だ。 “ただ覚えておいてください。真実が危険 なことです。” “もちろん、同志のうち、”私は“私たちは 当時その戦いの安全性を得ることができま す。”うなずき、 “ には、まずその優先順位を理解するま で、真実は意味がありません。”拮抗は私の皮 肉で、アレクセイは、戻って散歩に続く 彼は何もので、私は尋ねた言ったように 私は聞いていたのように見えた“あなたはそれ 以外の場合は混沌とした世界でアンカーに真 実を見つけるのですか？” “ 誰の真実が私のアンカーですか？ ” 彼が して私は何も言わなかった私の沈黙の中で彼 は続け た、と答えた。 “あなたは、大文字と 小文字の最高でも 2 つの真実の最小値を持っ ている：右の者の真理であり、我々自身の優 先順位から引き出さ間違っているの違いを決 定す る能力者の真実は、右側の私たちのため に定義されて間違っているから。 “優先順位がなければ、私たちは、右のす べてに存在しているかどうか確実性をどの程 度と言う ことができない。それがなければ、 私たちは、単に 2 つの人々が、各イベントの それぞれのバージョンを言っている。それ は、私たちは別の上で 1 つの正しさを 定義し ている我々にとって最優先事項とを介しての みです優先順位として、任意のように何かが 私たちは真実が何であるかを決めるのです か。” 私が言って前に沈黙の中を歩いて“私には 真実を何も人々の大半は合意内容を超えてい ます。真 実は、時間をかけてテストさ れ、”私は、“我々の行進足元に見つめ、その 対応に失敗するまで否定することはできませ んテストを実行します。 ” 私はそれがそ の欠 点を補うために適応されている時点で、“道路 から岩を蹴った。 私の足が痛い“とそれに向かって我々の道 はほとんどまっすぐです”と、“我々は常に真 実を 我々は、シーク知りませんが、真実は、 それが直面するかもしれないの負担にもかか わらず、我々の目標のまま”私は足を引き ずっ、 “ しかし、我々は、それに もかかわら ず、それに続く”私は、次の岩の上ステッ プ“と優れている、私たちの障害は私たちが我 慢して強制的に試験のために賢い。” “あなたの優先順位だから真実です か？”私たちが歩いているアレクセイは尋ねた だけ真実の私たちは二人とも共有：これは、 私たちの前に山の側面での喫煙の穴に注意し てください不注意を払って、別の午後になる 食事でした地球上の方法はありませんでし た。 *** 私たちの留守中、レッズは、ナチスの地 下山城に通じるトンネルを獲得した。スケッ チのレポー トは、巨大なとして開催何も彼ら をしていたときに死んでいない人の押し殺し たアカウントのその内部、さらにヒント以内 に洞窟を深く守った以内に戦って、 山、今の 内部が明らかになった。アレクセイは、私は ファンタジーとして、これらの噂を解任示唆 していた自分自身のしつこい不信のためだけ では彼のために、 のかどうか、あるいは単に そのような情報は私は、これらの好奇心はさ らに、中断することなく通過を許可さ私の立 場から実用的ではなかったためです。 しかし、私自身の心には、右に沿って、 非常に我々は今の前に立って要塞を一度噂の 存在で、私 はコンセンサスが何を意味してい た。ロシア参謀本部で人気の神話として却下 されたとき、これらのレポートの頻度はます ます無視することは困難であった。 “ 何も珍 しく勇気これらの人がいる ” と噂されている ジューコフ自分自身に“私はその口径の男性と 何ができるのか”、と述べている 第4章 光 そ れは悲鳴、一連のトンネルの入り口から 煙が深刻 をはるかに超える私を悩まかもしれ ないもう一つのイメージに我々の注目を集め た深夜もなかった。 “なぜ私はここにい る？”私は深い十分に私の目に私はようやく、 この狂気と盲目のかもしれない掘り手のひら をうなった、私がいた誓った – ニュースは、 私たちは、ものコストを要求していないトン ネルと隣接する洞窟の制御していたが来るま で。 多分私の以前の窒息お問い合わせは、私 や、私のホストの要求すべきか、おそらく私 は自分自身 は、私が目撃したものの完全な詳 細を知らなくて一緒に暮らすことができな かったのは慎重を行った。戦いは終わりに近 づいていた、これは十分だろうとリダウ ト ガードは、これらの噂は、ファームの少年 ファンタジー単にものであること、殺される ことが明らかとなった漸減したように。ナチ スの無敵の ss のは歴史と は何にフェージング された他の大事だった。 *** ヒトラーは – ニュースが打ったとき私は 司令官ジューコフの近くではなかった – その 日の夕方、生きて捕獲された！彼のエゴは私 のチケットの中だろう、私はジューコフの虚 栄心と組み合わせてこの瞬間を知っていた。 移動はすぐに私は、彼 が交差しているだろう と確かに彼は私が征服した敵は、そのアカウ ントに目撃されるより唯一確実なことより見 栄えとしての彼のをきっかけに飲み込まれた アプ ローチとして知っている点に収束し、リ ダウト我々に行きました。 私が見たすべての詳細を吸収としての私 の心は私のパルスよりも高速レース。この要 塞は、伝説 が生まれていたものだったが、私 は山に長いトンネルを、それらをフォローし ながら思いました。この戦争の終了日は私た ちの上にいた。それ以外の場合はアメ リカの インテリジェンスを利用できなくされ、その 存在そのものの赤軍の制御された領域の知識 の範囲内の位置深さを考えると、インストー ルのこの種のノート を作成する：略奪が私の より戦術的な目的の間で私はどこから来たさ れ、遠く離れていませんでした。 私たちは室に入った私の長い笑顔だけを 伴う暗いトンネルを通って我々の短いハイキ ングを次に 示します。巨大な洞窟のスペース は、私達が持っていたように、再び外に歩い た。 、星があったと私て、も、見て、私は空 気充填煙の中を参照してください可能性のあ る天井。で覆わ広大な洞窟は主にタンクト ラップと鉄条網の障害の迷宮へは 反対側の壁 に数百人の足を形成燃え尽きたマシンガンの 巣と大砲の位置に身を包んだマルチレベル構 造から私たちを分離し、私の前に開か破棄さ れます。 するには、そのヒンジを吹き飛ばさ大き な扉の向こうから明るい光が輝いていたが 入っていませ ん。これは、わが党は、それを 通して、水のかすかなちらつきが光をろ過見 ることができる窓が並んで小さく番目のトン ネルに進んで、この光に向かっていた。 我々 は、山の中の水の広大なプールの下を通過し た。広い目の沈黙の中で、この好奇心を通 じ、わが党の各メンバーは、彼らがより身近 な安全性とセキュリティ を超えてウィンドウ の花崗岩壁の廊下の足を踏み入れたとして次 の人に眼鏡の彼らの不信を取り除く渡されま す。彼らは見過ごされたり私の存在に無関心 に入る と “ それをいくつか二五メートルの周 り水シェルで中断巨大な球体、”主要な役員が 私たちの新しい環境のジューコフと述べた。 私は 2 番目の、より複雑なチャンバを介 して警戒距離に従って続けた。長い廊下ダウ ン、ダウン コーナー、左にある別の部屋につ ながる巨大な部屋に別の廊下に沿って十数便 の階段の長い第二廊下、しかし、警備員の周 りこの時点で私を止めた。ジューコフ は、ま だ先の私の目の前の私のラインの端で止まっ た。私は側に段差彼のガードは彼のライフル の銃床とリブで私を立ち往生 – これは私が見 た限りで行っていたようだった。しかし ジューコフ公聴会は何か理解できないという が、それでも私は助けることができなかった が、私は踊って、 彼の言葉のほとんどを尊重 トーンとして前傾。ガードも同様にこの時点 でオンに、私は右の足を滑らせジューコフの 角採石場の姿を捉えました。 彼らは決してしない – 彼は短い老人が、 すべての私は、彼がそれ以外の場合は率直に 言って一部を見ていないを参照してください するために必要な面白い口ひげがあった。突 然私の鼓 膜に穴を開けドイツ語で叫んで、そ れはヒトラーがすべての権利であり、どのよ うな声は、この男が彼の周りのすべてを命じ た。私はそれが花崗岩の壁をオフに エコーと しての彼の吠え声の背後にある行にジューコ フ秋表示されないように驚きました。私は コースを私を引っ張っていくつかの崇高な力 のように、それを自 分自身を感じて知ってい る。 叫び声が大きく、より端末を成長し、続 けた。来ていた、ヒトラーさんは私はロシア が言って第 二の声を聞いて叫んで、下に何 か“私は、これがあなたは私を信じていない！ 本当だったあなたに言った、”過去のジューコ フを歩いて大佐は語った。 “彼を見て！”彼が 要求している。 “ それは彼の血は、彼が負傷 見えるのだろうか？ ” 今、彼の司令官の前に 立って、大佐はゆっくりと自分自身にシフト ジューコフの目に軽蔑として激しく見つめ て いた。彼はピストル、出身を発射描いた： 1 回、2 回とヒトラーは、床に落ちた。 ジ ュ ー コ フ は 大佐 、部 屋 内 のすべての ガードは、すぐに男の上に積ま押し込んだ が、それは遅す ぎた。ヒトラーは床に横た わっていた – 私は近くに移動 – 彼はひどく出 血していた。大佐は“彼を見て！”叫んだトラ クションを探して、それを見つけるの周り滑 り、ガードの彼の杭の下で、ヒトラーが悶え 始めたか ら。私はとして、ヒトラーが続いて 叫ぶようなバラのように見つめていたジュー コフ、誰もがまだ立っていない場合は物理的 に戻って精神的に一歩を踏み出し た。 それは私がラジオで聞いたことがあるの で、多くのスピーチのように聞こえた。私は 彼がアン デッドされる前に、この男が再び 立っている。 。 。不滅。 。 。超？彼は多く の人々は彼がかもしれないと思ったので、神 聖な救世主となっているか？彼は十分に部屋 を命じたが、磁気はさておき私は何を見てい た？どのよ うにこのようにですか？ジューコ フは、明確に共有する私の思考は大佐に拳銃 を引っ張ったが、オンとヒトラーの肩で着実 ことを目的とした。 部屋は黙り込んだ。秒のような分が チェック。彼は火をしましたか？私はそれを 欠場か？バン！ 誰もが戻って落ちたが、血が 高い場所に軍服を湿し水床に滴下としての地 位をキャッチヒトラーを除き、上昇した。し かし、すぐにショットからブレース、彼は 彼 の落ち着きを取り戻した頭を持ち上げて、 ジューコフは再び発射として私たちを見上げ て、もう一度、もう一度、彼のピストルが空 になるまで部屋を埋め尽く した吸う。 ヒ ト ラ ー は 、呼 吸 後ろ の 壁 を 滑り 落ち た。 。 。彼は息。私は息。私たちは皆、息。 ジューコフをリロード – 私は近くに移動 – 彼 が作る彼の開いている拳銃を見下ろして立っ て、特定のそれは弾丸が拳銃を閉じるように まっすぐに見えたし、彼らはちょうどいいタ ンブラーに収まる重い十 分に感じたようが、 ヒトラーはまだ上に置く床。 ジューコフは、で寄り掛かり、近づく見 下ろして、何かをつぶやいた – 私は聞いてい ない – それは、ヒトラーの目を広げ、これら の言葉で彼は自分自身を集めてゆっくりと、 再び立っていた。いつものように間違ってい る側に – – 彼は髪を矯正調整軍服と目と鼻の 先にジューコフに戻る階段のように見えた。 コンプライアンスは、手で、おそらく理解に 達していたが、誰が誰役立っていた か？ ヒトラーは再び部屋の端を支配してバラ のように私は戻ってステップ、右腕も、吠え た単一続い てファシスト式の敬礼と突き上 げ“セイグ！”それはジューコフがこちらに向 かって回転送信されます。準備完了でマシン ガンでガードを見て失敗した私たちに する必 要があります、それはまだしっかりとした ジューコフとに添付されたことがガードをサ イジングの間私の神経驚きの分割は、彼の姿 勢を再開並んで彼の マークや、ヒトラーが見 つかりました下落した。 彼が倒れていないが、ある種のエピソー ドがあったと全世界に見えた。彼の腕は彼の バランスの 揺らめく残して彼の側に落ちた私 はしかめ面で彼を見た。我々は、すべての審 理で彼を見た。誰ウォッチングは態度の変化 を見逃していた。光は消えていた。彼 は我々 の注目を争った視線を困惑させると顔を柵で 私たち一人一人からで、我々は彼を見て、床 を見ただけで、意気消沈したが立っていた。 しかし、それはみん なの焦点として、この試 合に勝ったことは、バックをクリックする と、ジューコフさんはしっかりと拳銃を掴ん でハンマーがいた彼は、ヒトラーにのみ焦点 を見 つけた。 リボルバー眉のすぐ上にヒトラーを襲っ た弾丸を発射した安定さと、彼は写真のよう に部屋を凍 結ドサッと崩れガードが、ジュー コフとして“ 要塞は安全です”と言って部屋に 足を踏み入れました。煙のシングルコイルは ジューコフの銃の、私自身の心のた めに私は 何も痛みを聞いたことを除いてバレルを転が り落ちるエマルジョンを無視してきた。 私たちはこの瞬間も間違いがあることが 出来るでしょうか、床に横たわってヒトラー のくしゃく しゃの体を見つめていた。我々 は、見つめ、見つめ、それを終わった？非常 に多くのことは不可能年には、無数の人は、 すべての側に殺害 – 彼は動きませんでした – それらを守る狂人のが、この第二狂気のちょ うどなくなっていた。 分は、沈黙の中で渡されます。ジューコ フは彼の落ちた宿敵を見下ろして立ってい た。他の人 は、1 つずつ、私たちは部屋の端 で体から発せられる巨大な重力によって閉じ 込められたまま、勝利に後退した。私は、移 動したいが、できませんでした。 ジューコフ は、単に像になるの短い写真のうち退いた – 私の足はそんなにとして収縮はない。これ は、いくつかの他のような瞬間だったと私は 何もないより細部に息をするよりも問題知っ ていた – 彼は、彼のかかとオンになって私に 向かって歩いて、彼が経つにつれて、彼は不 平を言った“が起こったこのことはない。” *** 私は今の像だった。 ~~ Honor Earth photo help of N.A.S.A.. Explain by Trala Inc.. A Run Naked Make Third Change – First Print 001-3.1-3japd – 2011-10-13 Part of Earth Copyright © 2007-2013 by Robert Skyler - Do Not Copy All Rights Keep Made in America Tell the world what to think. Make or break this book with a look or rate on it page of buy. All person be in this work are story. Any look to real person, live or dead, is simple chance. Help Not Steal Help stop steal by buy a second reader permit for each person with that you share this work. If you guess that you your are not the first person to read this, ask your give if they buy you a permit, or buy your own now. Part of Earth Dream Piece 001 S.S.H.U.T. “Name Evil” Simple English Change Record An epic adventure into mad, this series of short story explore the chain that bind the human spirit to the repeat of survive. ~~~ History, write by the win rare record the event describe as they true took place. Clean and simple is their lesson loss to protect or damn us? At the end of World War II, siege in his bunker, his fantasy crumble around him, Hitler make his escape. South he fly for one last chance, one final stand and one more lesson history forgot to teach us. First – Simple English W hat if people could think for them-self? No, I do not mean rotate the idea around – once wash, then repeat – to fit like so many chicken in a oven. But every time reach for that spark beyond their react by ask can, I do better than this? And then do it. Can you imagine how danger that could be? This is a voyage through the space between your ear; a vast not tap lone chasm of nothing kept company by only the echo of once intelligence thought, now long since past it expire date. A journey that ask how, instead of what and why, when okay would have done and if, where because was just not sense obscure a truth so personal it could never be under-stood again. Fragment Earth is the trip of a life-time… see you on the other ear. Part 1 Flight – Nazi Germany, April 28, 1945 – I t is a child fantasy, these past few week in Berlin. This I know to be true as I have yet to meet an adult who can make sense of what is happen, but we know; it is a pretend fantasy come true and here we are at the heart of mad battle with gun and grenade against artillery attack and bomb raid. In the follow fantastic transform of my real, my duty as messenger – drive me to excite new place that month and even week ago were just my community – keep me sane enough to stave off the creep not sane that own every-thing around me. I attend school for year in a build which stand behind me today as headquarter of a dream battle against evil. The general store I regular fetch ice from for my mother now lie ahead of me, dark and glow from the low cloud reflect of fire-light through it miss roof, scary shadow pulse out of it window with each new explode flash from the horizon fright me on. These are the forge from which all bad dream come and I imagine they will be so for all time, but even though I am only a child, every new breath I come mean I could still be this dream master. With message secure in vest pocket, I push on with my mission to the Fuhrerbunker. Run alley-way to and through the park I had practice this very game in summer past. Duck down side street from store-front to debris pile, there is no one to be seen these day and even few around this time of morning, except for us soldier. At least I think it morning. The tank I eye to hide behind follow my next sprint was not there yesterday. It life-less hulk stand as high water mark of the last Red Army incur shiver me on, for it prime position is ideal cover on my current path. There is no front line – not any-more any-way – there is this street that alley, a bunker here, a breach in the wall there and only a child imagine with which to navigate this battle-field. “It can-not be,” the Russian have come this close, “and so recent,” I whisper as I lean up against the wheel of their burnt tank. “You have to think on your feet to stay in this game,” I remind my-self, “only the quick live to the end of the morning in my community.” Survive is as simple as see the brim on a helmet before that helmet see you. “Each time we push them back, their fire melt us further away; every-one I know is dead,” my-self remind me, “there is some-thing to be said for that.” I never deny my-self the honor of revel in my own mortal. *** Arrive at the Fuhrer-bunker at last, I crawl up into the messenger entrant; where after I find my-self in the distance familiar silent and secure of the out garden of the Reich Chancellery. Slow my pace, my breath catch up with me as caution I proceed into the main yard where the guard there, a dizzy statue of a man probable drunk again try to stop me. I yell at him, “get your hand off me! This message is for the Fuhrer.” He do not let go. I repeat my-self. He pull me in close, cover my mouth and say, “Quiet!” As he look around, “you are too late.” I am not too late. I am never late. “The Fuhrer is gone.” “Gone?” I echo through his hand – the word every-one use for dead these day, no one ever die any-more they are just gone. “Gone?” I repeat now free to speak, “what do you mean?” “No, no, not that kind of gone,” he reply point to the sky, as his finger produce a tiny object, a light air-craft lift up over the city. “Gone,” he say, “the Fuhrer has left. He fled south to Bavaria.” ~~~ “I did not think I could get you out of there in time,” I shout over the blare engine as I turn to look into that still silence reflect of an empty face, stare down into the glow ruin of our once thrive capital city, now crumble under the heel of the advance Red Army. Drawn into his reflect, I can see with-in those eye the haunt lost lust of a thousand conquered conqueror; even in defeat this man is intoxicate. “You put up a bold fight,” I appease my desire, “but you can-not blame your-self with this out-come. You made all the right move at all the right time. The fate simply were not with you on this one.” “I could have done better, Hanna,” shatter the silent of my ramble. “Oh, Mein Fuhrer,” I went on, “could this have been any other way? You will still be triumph in the end. I am certain of this,” I droll as a dip in the wing bring my action back to the control. Am I still talk? He could not have know I was bare fly this air-craft to see me now. What was I say? Do it matter? Is either of us listen? “I did better, last time,” he interrupt with astonish zeal, rock forth and back in his seat as he turn to me. But squint my assist to his continue see only fail familiar subdue his gaze back into the silence judge of the German country-side stream by below us, as we fly low through our safe path to the south held open at the cost of so many live. Is he worth it? I wonder for the brief of time, but no answer come and I would not want one if it did. It is not for me to ask such question. The silent strike me. *** Arrive safe, land like some dream end, the drone of the motor I thought might have deaf me to any-thing the Fuhrer said as on our approach he said some-thing I do not know, and dare not ask him to repeat. The jostle of rough turf under wheel awake me. My heart beat again. An S.S. guard run up to the aircraft side and open the door. Hitler turn to get out, but stop. He turn back, look deep into my eye – almost through me – and say, “forgive me.” I freeze as babble fill my throat but say no-thing with a swallow as he lean to get out his last word, “I will do better next time.” “I am certain you will, Mein Fuhrer!” I reply in a gush, or think I did. I can-not say for certain I said any-thing at all… maybe he did not either. ~~~ Take into my wait armor car, we sweep off through the country-side. “The new report see the Red Army could be here at any time of not expect weak,” say the sitting S.S. Officer to Hitler, “there is not a second to be lost!” Feel this weight, I press on even fast to the best kept secret of the war and the only solution I imagine might save me, short of flee west to surrender to the American Army. No, behind the front line border of our Third Reich lay my fate; where I had not witting aid in the enslave of count-less soul; whose create I fear would soon see us join them, in their shallow grave, down the long wind dirt road we drove to our destiny: an not surmountable horror of defend position no ration army could breach, to guard a prize no ration man would refuse. The future of the Third Reich and the victory Soviet Russia bled for lay with-in this mountain fortress of our. It out defense sat at the ready as we, with the remnant of our elite S.S. troop behind us – have abandon their Berlin defense – flow south, leave Berlin to fall to the Red Army Supreme Command Zhukov mad at Hitler, not be found in it ruin. But see this trick – only after the fact – Zhukov, will turn his force south to the only body of resist be in Great Germany… us. Part 2 Fight L ook south into Czechoslovakia at the mountain which stand as one more hard battle in a seem end-less line of maneuver between me and the end of this horror war, I remind my-self, “total victory has no except.” Like the Battle for Berlin behind us this Bohemian Fort before me was to be sole the Red Army prize and I it only western viewer. My division with the U.S. 1st Army to the west tug at my fruit-less desire as regret I watch the approach of our ally' army. Not one of a tactic nature I had to admit. They did nothing trick and I as liaison embed with them, to plan the event meet up with our boy on the River Elbe back in Germany, could do nothing to prevent this. No matter the German inferior I would watch them routine defeat far superior force due to this very lack of skill our Russian ally display with such confident. “Like swat fly with a hammer,” the Red Army single solve to the Nazi tire-less maneuver. They would common chase blind after not imagine, even mythic and always not avoid-able disaster final trap with their never end column of soldier and machine only to find only themself, “fail at every turn to achieve even the least ration define of victory,” in the face of our enemy. To watch our ally in the field was as I note in my few short week with them, like see the slow agony death of one of nature noble beast. It was as poetry and glory as ignorance and torture to see so many live thrown into the fire to meet the not real time-table of a tyrant. They won and yet some-how lost every battle they ever enter into and that is to say that, “sure no oppose army ever suffer the same soldier twice. “Stalin,” head of this Soviet State of confuse stood as, “yet another Russian Emperor demand victory as the only outcome to any battle for which there were no cost too high in have.” The Red Army blood flow in pursuit of this man goal like no army history had ever see. The Soviet had literal wash the Nazi occupy soil of their Mother Russia clean with the blood of the not count million of it conscript peasantry they dress up and presence as soldier before me today. “What was it all for?” I ask my-self continue. “To reward, inept General the burden weight of one more medal earn at the cost of a few hundred thousand more live, or to claim back the right to rule over yet another people whom only the death of the last had afford them.” Anger for the, “method of their system,” is what watch the Red Army bring, and as the bile rise in my throat to speak to these, “ally of our,” I must measure every emotion in a mumble before it is spoke, so as not to risk future generation of their stout youth be stab on our own bayonet in the name of some perceive insult or betray through their Command eye. Collect my thought just short of a breakdown I swallow my pride and remind myself, that right here and right now these murder of Russian youth are, “the less of two evil.” That this is our chance to use one evil to be rid of another at far less of a cost to our own than could ever be possible, should we try to be rid of them both our-self. It was a fire sale only moral would never attend; every other incline dictate one was better than two. *** Justify proof show it-self with the mechanize arm of the Red Army arrive. A wonder word could never describe proper. This late in the war they at a whim field thousand of tank and not count-able artillery piece, which still manage to fail to meet their potence, lead to the ever predict-able retract so as not to destroy their own advance troop who would share in the over-all not competent of their attack. That time and again, found the Nazi back at their station ready to bear see to the next rise tide of farm boy blood. A force the like of which I had only heard as a thunder-storm on the horizon while south of Berlin release it-self from with-in this machine onto the Nazi mountain fort. It was standard operate procedure for the Red Army to open every siege in this manner I sigh, just as standard as it was for the Nazi S.S. division to survive these ground level attack most intact and the follow morning would be no except. The forest around the mountain fort reduce to stump and field from the previous night barrage saw the Nazi out defense destroy and yet, the terrain new crazy form be equal defend-able and thus, the dance carry on like so many before. Not evitable unfold before my eye, I watch because I could not turn away from this sight of destruct, “confuse in it hypnosis beauty.” The Nazi troop were replace by pile of Red Army corpse too deep to walk through, but even that would not stop their advance armor. This can-not happen any-more! I scream to my-self but was power-less to change this disaster course as Zhukov stood firm against the fire. The logic of his action confuse me. This man, order wave after wave of soldier to pave one more foot of ground with Russian blood, had no-where to go but forward. His flaw recognize not exist, I could read that in his eye, it was their live or his and as each attack fail the next continue because his truth would not be deny; he was gain ground. Part 3 Right T he follow day won the field with a cost in live that was as quick be take away by an equal large army so as not to stop the flow. The next trap, the tunnel defense – lead into the mountain fortress – were to be conquered through a series of plan tank attack. “The Josef Stalin III Heavy Tank,” my counter-part Alexei said with a smile as these monster made their debut on the field. “The new in the Soviet arsenal,” he beam, as these not permeable behemoth advance to the tunnel entrant rumble past our observe dugout more than a hundred yard away, shake every-thing around me. Not a time too late either these tank an almost solid chunk of steel mark only by the cannon stick out of their bulb turret, were to be the surprise for which the Nazi had no answer. General impress, but less will to see one more hero stop, my hunger and I go up the road to the new form field headquarter for a meal and to observe operate as often I did. Alexei, never more than a step or two behind me join us as we found our meal – at least I hope this would be a meal. Lack from the front line excite and not wish to face down any meal here with-out distract – I search for middle ground between the death and stare blank into space, which I found in a Soldier be mad by his Sergeant – while I ponder my own plan of attack on today not fair faire. Figure it safe to approach the Sergeant, we follow him from the chow line and with a few choice look were soon talk the issue he had been talk with his mad and go disciple. It was what he ignore as no-thing more than a dumb farm boy fantasy: S.S. Soldier shot only to get up after, which he quick excuse as, “wound or perhaps another soldier from the same direct.” Look sad at his word though, he pause – take in the full not familiar of my American Army uniform, lean in and quiet said to us, “I have seen this as well.” I look at the Russian Sergeant with a skeptic eye, as Alexei step away to the dine table. The Sergeant reply, “that is the exact reply I receive from my Captain.” I shook my head. He said, “so I Crush These Rumor First Hand, but real,” he look care-full around the tent, “I have seen this my-self.” “It was a few month ago,” he continue as I walk to the table where Alexei sat, “we were stay in a rail house up the road when a messenger arrive. He told us we had to turn back to deal with a surge of resist fight – a common mission. When we arrive on site there was no-thing to be seen at first, then a series of gun-shot came at us from a house up the hill. We flank their position, circle around with the sun at our back. It was, an easy enough fight, we lost only four men, they a dozen or more.” Lean in a little close as his voice grew quiet, “the barn behind the house drew my sniper attend; he kept shoot Nazi S.S. Officer try to fix their position. I told him there must be a whole nest of them in there, so we call for artillery support and around middle-day the barn blew to piece. “So final, we walk up the hill and what do you expect we found?” Spell-bound I blink. “We found a single Officer, sit there stab through the rib from the force of the artillery explode – with one of those farm harvest tool – where we had expect to find a whole pile of them, and for all I could tell he was none the worse off, so I smile at him and shot him in the chest. He smile back. My smile fell to the ground as I shot him several more time, but there was no mistake what I was see, this guy would not die. Each time I shot him it look like little more than me punch you in the arm. “Any-way,” the Sergeant look around again, “we took him prison, sent him back and move on with-out another word spoke about it, because the only word that matter come down from the top; To Quiet These False Defeat Rumor,” he said loud, “And I do!” I look around search for react – my handle Alexei, whom have long since finish his meal, made me note I had also, finish mine – but found none, as he sat now nod off seem not interest in our talk, so I continue with the Sergeant, “this is a common story?” He frown, “I should be go,” take note of Alexei sleep and nod say, “it the only truth I know.” “But,” I said as he stood and walk out, “… nice know you,” and nudge my partner who stood on command and we made our way out-side as well. Alexei, lead the way slow then stop between the park truck, turn to me and warn, “that is Not the smart thing to do around here.” “I am Not from around here,” I smile. “Just keep in mind; truth is a danger thing.” “Of course Comrade,” I nod, “let us get back to the safe of that battle then.” Antagonise by my game, Alexei continue on our walk back, “until you have first under- stood it need; truth has no mean.” I look up like I was listen as he said nothing, so I ask, “you do not find truth to be an anchor in an other-wise crazy world?” “Whose truth should anchor me?” He answer, to which I said no-thing and in my silent he continue. “You have a minimum of two truth even in the best of case: the truth of the person who is right, and the truth of the person who is wrong. The able to decide the differ, drawn from our own need define for us right from wrong. “With-out need we can-not say with any degree of certain if right exist at all. With-out it we simply have two people each tell their version of an event. It is only with our need that we define the right of one over another, and through some-thing as random as need do we decide what truth is.” I walk on in silent before say, “truth to me is no-thing more than what the major of people agree upon. Truth is test over time,” I stare down at our march feet, “and can-not be deny until it fail to meet that test.” I kick a rock from the road, “at which point it is adapt to make up for it fail. “Truth be our goal no matter the burden it may face, for we do not always know the truth we seek,” my toe hurt, “and our path to it is rare straight,” I limp, “but we follow it any-way,” I step over the next rock, “and are better, and wise for the trial our fail force us to live.” “So your need is truth?” Alexei ask as we walk on to the only truth we both share: this would be another after-noon pay care-full not attend to the smoke hole in the side of the mountain before us, and there was no way on earth that was a meal. *** The Red won the tunnel lead into the Nazi under-ground mountain fortress while we were away. Now in-side the mountain fight, with-in what bad report held as an big and well defend cave deep with-in it interior, further hint of quiet record of men not dying when they were suppose to, became clear. Alexei had said I ignore these rumor as fantasy, and if for his good alone, for my own nag not belief, or simply because such inform was not action-able from my position I allow these curious to pass with-out further disrupt. But in my own mind, right along with the once rumor exist of the very fortress we now stood in front of, I knew agree mean something. Ignore as popular myth by the Russian General Staff, the common of these report were increase difficult to ignore. “What not common good these men have,” Zhukov himself was rumor to have said, “what I could do with men of that strong.” Part 4 Light I t was well after middle-night when a series of scream and a puff of smoke from the tunnel entrant drew our attend to yet another image that might haunt me well beyond the grave. “Why am I here?” I growl dig my hand deep enough into my eye that I might final be blind to this mad and swore I was – until news came we were in control of the tunnel and join cave, which I did not even ask the cost of. Maybe my former quiet question made me caution of what I should be ask of my host, or perhaps I could not live with my-self know the full detail of what I had see. The battle was come to a close, this would be enough, and as the Fort guard die it became clear that they could be kill, that these rumor were just the stuff of farm boy fantasy. The Nazi not vincible S.S. were fade into history and no-thing else matter. *** Hitler – I was not near Command Zhukov when the news hit – was capture that eve, alive! I knew this time combine with Zhukov vane; his ego would be my ticket in-side. Move quick I move on the point I knew he would have to cross, and sure enough as he approach I was swept up in his wake as the only certain more please than a conquered foe is see to the record thereof, and into the Fort we went. My mind race fast than my pulse as I know every detail I saw. This fortress was the stuff legend were born of, I thought while follow them up the long tunnel into the mountain. The close day of this war were upon us. The steal was not far off, which among my more tactic purpose was where I came in: to make note of this sort of install, give it locate deep with-in Red Army control territory know of it very exist was other-wise not available to American Intelligent. Follow our short hike through the dark tunnel with only my long smile we enter a chamber. A huge cavern space, like we had walk out-side again. I look up there were no star, nor any ceiling I could see through the smoke fill air. A vast cave cover in a most destroy road of tank trap and barb wire trap open up before me, separate us from a multiple-level structure clad in burnt out machine gun nest and artillery position form the oppose wall several hundred feet away. To the left a bright light shine out from beyond a large door blown off it hinge. It was to this light our party move into a small second tunnel line with window through which we could see the faint flick of water filter light. We were pass under a vast pool of water in-side the mountain. Through this curious in wide eye silent each member of our party pass, relieve their not belief of the sight onto the next man as they step into the more familiar safe and secure of the window-less granite wall hall-way beyond. “An big sphere suspend in a water shell some twenty five meter around it,” the lead officer said to Zhukov of our new sight as they enter not notice or not concern with my present. I continue to follow at a wary distant through the second more complex chamber. Down a long hall-way, around a corner, down a second long hall-way, up a dozen flight of stairs, along another hall-way into a huge room lead to another room to the left, but the guard stop me at this point. Zhukov, still ahead of me stop at the edge of my line of sight. I step to the side but his guard stuck me in the rib with his rifle butt – this was as far as I was go. But hear Zhukov say some-thing not comprehend; I could not help but lean forward as the almost respect-full tone of his word dance by me. The guard turn at this as well, and I slip right and caught sight of Zhukov corner catch. There he was a short old man, the funny mustache all I need to see, he other-wise just did not look the part – they never do. Sudden yell in German pierce my ear, it was Hitler all right and what a voice, this man command all around him. I was surprise not to see Zhukov fall into line behind his bark as it echo off the granite wall. I know I felt it my-self, like some strong force pull me off course. The shout continue, it grew loud and more final. Some-thing was come and under Hitler yell I heard a second voice in Russian say, “I told you this was true! You did not believe me,” said the Colonel walk past Zhukov. “Look at him!” He demand. “That is his blood, do he look wound?” Now stand in front of his Command, the Colonel stare tense as the anger in Zhukov eye slow shift to himself. He drew his pistol, turn and fire: once, twice and Hitler fell to the floor. Zhukov shove the Colonel and every guard in the room quick pile onto the man, but it was too late. Hitler lay on the floor – I move in close – he was bleed bad. The Colonel yell, “watch him!” From under his pile of guard as Hitler began to move; slip around, look for traction and find it. Zhukov and every-one still stand took a step back mental, if not physical as I did and stare as Hitler rose like the shout which follow. It sound like so many speech I would heard on the radio. This man once again stand before me was he not dead… not destructable… super-nature? Could he have been the sacred savior so many people thought he might be? He command a room well enough but magnet aside what was I see? How is this so? Zhukov, clear share my thought pull his pistol on the Colonel but turn and aim steady at Hitler side. The room fell silence. Second tick by like minute. Did he fire? Did I miss it? BANG! Every-one jump except Hitler, who fell back but caught him-self as blood dampen his uniform in a high locate drip to the floor. But quick brace from the shot, he gain his calm, lift his head and look up at us as Zhukov fire again, and again, and again, until his pistol empty and smoke fill the room. Hitler slid down the back wall, breathe… He breathe. I breathe. We all breathe. Zhukov reload – I move in close – he stood look down at his open gun make certain it seem the bullet felt heavy enough, that they fit into the gun just right, then look straight ahead as his gun close, but Hitler still lay on the floor. Zhukov move close, lean in, look down and said some-thing – I did not hear – but it widen Hitler eye and at these word he stood again, slow collect him-self. He straight his hair – to the wrong side as always – adjust his uniform and look dead ahead as Zhukov step back. Agree was at hand, perhaps a deal had been reach but who was serve whom? I step back as Hitler rose again rule the end of the room, his right arm thrust up with the fascist salute follow by a single well bark, “Seig!” That sent Zhukov turn to me. See a guard with machine gun at the ready should fail be upon us, my nerves amaze split between size up that guard, which it was still firm attach to and Zhukov, who have resume his stance, found his mark, line up, and Hitler slump. He did not fall but look to all the world to have had an episode of sort. I look at him with line brow as his arm fell to his side leave him lost for balance. We all look at him with question. No one watch had miss this change in look. The light was gone. He stood there crest-fallen, look only at the floor as we look at him, then at each one of us with wild stare and pale face that compete for our attend. But it was the hammer on Zhukov tight grip gun, click back, that won this match as every-one focus found him focus only on Hitler. A guard step into the room say, “the fortress is secure,” as Zhukov, with gun steady fire a bullet that struck Hitler just above the eye-brow, and he fall with a thud that froze the room like a photo. A single coil of smoke defy the photo roll off the barrel of Zhukov gun and except for my own heart I heard no-thing but the pain. We stare at the crumple body of Hitler lying on the floor, wonder if there could be any mistake this time. We stare and stare, was it over? So many not possible year, count-less million murder on every side – he did not move – by the mad-men defend them, but in this second the not sane was just gone. Minute pass in silent. Zhukov stood look down at his fall enemy. The other, one by one go into triumph, leave us trap by the great force come from the body at the end of the room. I want to move, but could not. Zhukov, just short of become a statue step back out of the photo – my leg would not so much as move. This was a time like few other and I knew no-thing matter more than to breathe in every detail – he turn on his heel, walk by me and as he pass he said, “this never happen.” *** I was the statue now. ~~ Credits Earth photo courtesy of N.A.S.A.. A Running Naked Production Third Edition – Second Printing 001-3.2-3japd – 2011-10-13 Fragment Earth Copyright © 2007-2013 by Robert Skyler All Rights Reserved Made in America Tell the world what to think. Make or break this book with a review or rating on its page of purchase. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Stand Against Piracy Help stop piracy by purchasing a secondary reader license for each person with which you share this work. If you suspect that you yourself are not the first person to read this, ask your provider if they purchased you a license, or purchase your own now. Fragment Earth Conception Episode 001 S.S.H.U.T. “Identifying Evil” English Edition Summary An epic adventure into madness, this series of short stories explores the chains that bind the human spirit to the repetition of survival. ~~~ History, written by the winner rarely records the events described as they truly took place. Sanitized and simplified is their lesson's loss to protect or condemn us? At the end of World War II, besieged in his bunker, his fantasy crumbling around him, Hitler makes his escape. Southward he flies for one last chance, one final stand and one more lesson history forgot to teach us. Preface – English W hat if people could think for themselves? No, I don't mean rotating the ideas around – once washed, then repeated – to fit like so many chickens in a rotisserie. But every time reaching for that spark beyond their reaction by asking can, I do better than this? And then doing it. Can you imagine how dangerous that could be? This is a voyage through the space between your ears; a vast untapped lonely chasm of nothingness kept company by only the echoes of once intelligent thought, now long since past its expiration date. A journey that asks how, instead of what and why, when okay would have done and if, where because was just nonsense obscuring a truth so personal it could never be understood again. Fragment Earth is the trip of a lifetime… see you on the other ear. Chapter 1 Flight – Nazi Germany, April 28, 1945 – I t is a child's fantasy, these past few weeks in Berlin. This I know to be true as I have yet to meet an adult who can make sense of what is happening, but we understand; it is a pretended fantasy come true and here we are at the heart of madness battling with guns and grenades against artillery attacks and bombing raids. In the ensuing phantasmagoric transformation of my reality, my duties as messenger – driving me to exciting new places that months and even weeks ago were just my neighborhood – keep me lucid enough to stave off the creeping insanity that owns everything around me. I attended school for years in a building which stands behind me today as headquarters of a dream battle against evil. The general store I regularly fetched ice from for my mother now lies ahead of me, dark and glowing from the low clouds reflection of firelight through its missing roof, eerie shadows pulse out of its windows with each new explosion's flash from the horizon frightening me onward. These are the forges from which all nightmares spawn and I imagine they will remain so for all time, but even though I am only a child, every new breath I draw confirms I could still be this dream's master. With messages secure in vest pocket, I push on with my mission to the Fuhrerbunker. Running alleyways to and through the park I had practiced this very game in summers past. Ducking down side streets from storefront to debris pile, there is no one to be seen these days and even fewer around this time of morning, except for us soldiers. At least I think it's morning. The tank I eyed to hide behind following my next sprint was not there yesterday. Its lifeless hulk standing as high water mark of the last Red Army incursion shivers me onward, for its prime position is ideal cover on my current path. There is no front line – not anymore anyway – there is this street that alley, a bunker here, a breach in the wall there and only a child's imagination with which to navigate this battlefield. “It cannot be,” the Russians have come this close, “and so recent,” I whisper as I lean up against the wheel of their smoldering tank. “You have to think on your feet to stay in this game,” I remind myself, “only the quick live to the end of the morning in my neighborhood.” Survival is as simple as seeing the brim on a helmet before that helmet sees you. “Each time we push them back, their fire melts us further away; everyone I know is dead,” myself reminds me, “there is something to be said for that.” I never deny myself the privilege of reveling in my own mortality. *** Arriving at the Fuhrerbunker at last, I crawl up into the messenger's entrance; where after I find myself in the distantly familiar silence and security of the outer garden of the Reich's Chancellery. Slowing my pace, my breath catches up with me as cautiously I proceed into the main yard where the guard there, a dizzy statue of a man probably drunk again tries to stop me. I yell at him, “get your hands off me! This message is for the Fuhrer.” He does not let go. I repeat myself. He pulls me in closer, covers my mouth and says, “Quiet!” As he looks around, “you are too late.” I am not too late. I am never late. “The Fuhrer is gone.” “Gone?” I echo through his hand – the word everyone uses for dead these days, no one ever dies anymore they are just gone. “Gone?” I repeat now free to speak, “what do you mean?” “No, no, not that kind of gone,” he replies pointing toward the sky, as his finger produces a tiny object, a light aircraft lifting up over the city. “Gone,” he says, “the Fuhrer has left. He's fled south to Bavaria.” ~~~ “I did not think I could get you out of there in time,” I shouted over the blaring engine as I turned to look into that still silent reflection of an empty face, staring down into the glowing ruins of our once thriving capital city, now crumbling under the heel of the advancing Red Army. Drawn into his reflection, I can see within those eyes the haunting lost lust of a thousand conquered conquerors; even in defeat this man is intoxicating. “You put up a bold fight,” I appeased my desire, “but you cannot blame yourself with this outcome. You made all the right moves at all the right times. The fates simply were not with you on this one.” “I could have done better, Hanna,” shatters the silence of my rambling. “Oh, Mein Fuhrer,” I went on, “could this have been any other way? You will still be triumphant in the end. I am certain of this,” I droll as a dip in the wings brings my action back to the controls. Am I still talking? He could not have known I was barely flying this aircraft to see me now. What was I saying? Does it matter? Is either of us listening? “I did better, last time,” he interrupts with astonishing zeal, rocking forth and back in his seat as he turns toward me. But squinting my assistance to his continuation sees only failure's familiarity subdue his gaze back into the silent judgment of the German countryside streaming by below us, as we fly low through our safe corridor to the south held open at the cost of so many lives. Is he worth it? I wonder for the briefest of moments, but no answer comes and I would not want one if it did. It is not for me to ask such questions. The silence strikes me. *** Arriving safely, landing like some dream's end, the drone of the motor I thought might have deafened me to anything the Fuhrer said as on our approach he murmurs something I do not understand, and dare not ask him to repeat. The jostling of rough turf under wheel awakens me. My heart beats again. An S.S. guard runs up to the aircraft's side and opens the door. Hitler turns to get out, but stops. He turns back, looks deep into my eyes – almost through me – and says, “forgive me.” I freeze as babble fills my throat but say nothing with a swallow as he leans to get out his last words, “I will do better next time.” “I am certain you will, Mein Fuhrer!” I reply in a gush, or think I did. I cannot say for certain I said anything at all… maybe he did not either. ~~~ Shuffled into my waiting armored car, we sweep off through the countryside. “The latest reports anticipate the Red Army could be here at any moment of unexpected weakness,” says the accompanying S.S. Officer to Hitler, “there is not a second to be lost!” Feeling this weight, I press on even faster toward the best kept secret of the war and the only salvation I imagine might save me, short of fleeing west to surrender to the American Army. No, behind the front line borders of our Third Reich lay my fate; where I had unwittingly aided in the enslavement of countless souls; whose creation I feared would soon see us joining them, in their shallow graves, down the long winding dirt road we drove to our destination: an insurmountable horror of defensive positions no rational army could breach, to guard a prize no rational man would refuse. The future of the Third Reich and the victory Soviet Russia bled for lay within this mountain fortress of ours. Its external defenses sat at the ready as we, with the remnants of our elite S.S. troops behind us – having abandoned their Berlin defenses – flowed south, leaving Berlin to fall to the Red Army Supreme Commander Zhukov's disappointment at Hitler, not being found in its ruins. But seeing this deception – only after the fact – Zhukov, will turn his forces southward toward the only body of resistance remaining in Greater Germany… us. Chapter 2 Fight L ooking south into Czechoslovakia at the mountain which stands as one more tedious battle in a seemingly endless line of maneuvers between me and the end of this horrible war, I remind myself, “total victory has no exception.” Like the Battle for Berlin behind us this Bohemian Redoubt before me was to be solely the Red Armies prize and I its only western witness. My division with the U.S. 1st Army to the west tugged at my fruitless desire as reluctantly I watched the approach of our allies' army. Not one of a tactical nature I had to admit. They did nothing covertly and I as liaison embedded with them, to coordinate the eventual meet up with our boys on the River Elbe back in Germany, could do nothing to prevent this. Despite the German's inferiority I'd watched them routinely defeat far superior forces due to this very lack of subtlety our Russian allies displayed with such confidence. “Like swatting flies with a hammer,” the Red Army's singular solution to the Nazi's tireless maneuvers. They would frequently chase blindly after unimagined, even mythical and always unavoidably disastrous final obstacles with their never ending column of soldier and machine only to find only themselves, “failing at every turn to achieve even the least rational definition of victory,” in the face of our enemy. To watch our allies in the field was as I noted in my few short weeks with them, like seeing the slow agonizing death of one of nature's noblest beasts. It was as poetic and glorious as ignorant and torturous to see so many lives thrown into the fire to meet the unrealistic timetable of a tyrant. They won and yet somehow lost every battle they ever entered into and that is to say that, “surely no opposing army ever suffered the same soldier twice. “Stalin,” head of this Soviet State of confusion stood as, “yet another Russian Emperor demanding victory as the only outcome to any battle for which there were no costs too high in obtaining.” The Red Army's blood flowed in pursuit of this man's goals like no army history had ever witnessed. The Soviet had literally washed the Nazi occupied soils of their Mother Russia clean with the blood of the uncounted millions of its conscripted peasantry they dressed up and presented as soldiers before me today. “What was it all for?” I asked myself continually. “To reward, inept Generals the burdensome weight of one more medal earned at the cost of a few hundred thousand more lives, or to claim back the right to rule over yet another people whom only the death of the last had afforded them.” Contempt for the, “methodology of their system,” is what watching the Red Army brings, and as the bile rises in my throat to speak to these, “allies of ours,” I must measure every emotion in a mumble before it is spoken, so as not to risk future generations of their stout youth being impaled on our own bayonets in the name of some perceived insult or betrayal through their Commander's eyes. Collecting my thoughts just short of a breakdown I swallow my pride and remind myself, that right here and right now these murderers of Russian youth are, “the lesser of two evils.” That this is our chance to use one evil to be rid of another at far less of a cost to our own than could ever be possible, should we try to be rid of them both ourselves. It was a fire sale only morality would never attend; every other inclination dictated one was better than two. *** Justification incarnate showed itself with the mechanized arm of the Red Army's arrival. A wonder words could never describe properly. This late in the war they at a whim fielded thousands of tanks and uncountable artillery pieces, which still managed to fail to meet their potential, leading to the ever predictable retraction so as not to destroy their own advancing troops who would share in the overall incompetence of their attack. That time and again, found the Nazis back at their stations ready to bear witness to the next rising tide of farm boy blood. A force the likes of which I had only heard as a thunderstorm on the horizon while south of Berlin released itself from within this machine onto the Nazi's mountain redoubt. It was standard operating procedure for the Red Army to open every siege in this manner I sighed, just as standard as it was for the Nazi's S.S. divisions to survive these ground leveling attacks mostly intact and the following morning would be no exception. The forests around the mountain redoubt reduced to stumps and fields from the previous night's barrage saw the Nazi's external defenses destroyed and yet, the terrain's new chaotic formations remained equally defendable and thus, the dance carried on like so many before. Inevitability unfolded before my eyes, I watched because I could not turn away from this spectacle of destruction, “dumbfounding in its hypnotic allure.” The Nazi troops were replaced by piles of Red Army corpses too deep to walk through, but even that would not stop their advancing armor. This cannot happen anymore! I screamed to myself but was powerless to change this calamities course as Zhukov stood firm against the fire. The logic of his actions staggered me. This man, ordering wave after wave of soldier to pave one more foot of ground with Russian blood, had nowhere to go but forward. His flaw recognition nonexistent, I could read that in his eyes, it was their lives or his and as each attack failed the next continued because his truth would not be denied; he was gaining ground. Chapter 3 Right T he following day won the field with a cost in lives that was as quickly being shuffled away by an equally large army so as not to clot the flow. The next obstacle, the tunnel's defenses – leading into the mountain fortress – were to be conquered through a series of coordinated tank attacks. “The Josef Stalin III Heavy Tank,” my counterpart Alexei said with a smile as these monsters made their debut on the field. “The latest in the Soviet arsenal,” he beamed, as these impermeable behemoths advanced toward the tunnel's entrance rumbling past our observation dugout more than a hundred yards away, shaking everything around me. Not a moment too late either these tanks an almost solid chunk of steel distinguished only by the cannon sticking out of their bulbous turrets, were to be the surprise for which the Nazis had no answer. Generally impressed, but less willing to witness one more heroic clot, my hunger and I retreated up the road to the newly forming field headquarters for a meal and to observe operations as often I did. Alexei, never more than a step or two behind me joined us as we found our meal – at least I hoped this would be a meal. Lacking from the front line excitement and not wishing to face down any meal here without distraction – I searched for middle ground between the death and staring blankly into space, which I found in a Soldier being scorned by his Sergeant – while I pondered my own plan of attack on today's unfair faire. Figuring it safer to approach the Sergeant, we followed him from the chow line and with a few choice looks were soon discussing the issue he had been discussing with his scorned and retreated disciple. It was what he dismissed as nothing more than a naive farm boy's fantasy: S.S. Soldiers shot only to get up afterward, which he quickly excused as, “wounded or perhaps another soldier from the same direction.” Looking sad at his words though, he paused – taking in the full unfamiliarity of my American Army uniform, leaned in and quietly said to us, “I have seen this as well.” I looked at the Russian Sergeant with a skeptical eye, as Alexei stepped away toward the dining tables. The Sergeant replied, “that is the exact response I received from my Captain.” I shook my head. He said, “so I Crush These Rumors First Hand, but really,” he looked carefully around the tent, “I have seen this myself.” “It was a few months ago,” he continued as I walked toward the table where Alexei sat, “we were staying in a rail house up the road when a messenger arrived. He told us we had to turn back to deal with a surge of resistance fighters – not an uncommon mission. When we arrived on site there was nothing to be seen at first, then a series of gunshots came at us from a house up the hill. We flanked their position, circled around with the sun at our backs. It was, an easy enough fight, we lost only four men, they a dozen or more.” Leaning in a little closer as his voice grew quieter, “the barn behind the house drew my sniper's attention; he kept shooting Nazi S.S. Officers trying to reestablish their position. I told him there must be a whole nest of them in there, so we called for artillery support and around midday the barn blew to splinters. “So finally, we walked up the hill and what do you expect we found?” Spellbound I blinked. “We found a single Officer, sitting there impaled through the ribs from the force of the artillery's explosion – with one of those farm harvesting tools – where we had expected to find a whole pile of them, and for all I could tell he was none the worse off, so I smiled at him and shot him in the chest. He smiled back. My smile fell to the ground as I shot him several more times, but there was no mistaking what I was seeing, this guy would not die. Each time I shot him it looked like little more than me punching you in the arm. “Anyway,” the Sergeant looked around again, “we took him prisoner, sent him back and moved on without another word spoken about it, because the only word that matters comes down from the top; To Stifle These False Defeatist Rumors,” he said louder, “And I do!” I looked around searching for reaction – my handler Alexei, whom having long since finished his meal, made me note I had also, finished mine – but found none, as he sat now nodded off seemingly uninterested in our discussion, so I continued with the Sergeant, “this is not an uncommon story?” He frowned, “I should be going,” taking note of Alexei's disposition and nodded saying, “it's the only truth I know.” “But,” I said as he stood and walked out, “…nice knowing you,” and nudged my partner who stood on command and we made our way outside as well. Alexei, leading the way slowed then stopped between the parked trucks, turned toward me and warned, “that is Not the smartest thing to do around here.” “I'm Not from around here,” I smiled. “Just keep in mind; truth is a dangerous thing.” “Of course Comrade,” I nodded, “let us get back to the safety of that battle then.” Antagonized by my sarcasm, Alexei continued on our walk back, “until you've first understood its priorities; truth has no meaning.” I looked up like I was listening as he said nothing, so I asked, “you don't find truth to be an anchor in an otherwise chaotic world?” “Whose truth should anchor me?” He answered, to which I said nothing and in my silence he continued. “You have a minimum of two truths even in the best of case: the truth of the person who is right, and the truth of the person who is wrong. The ability to decide the difference, drawn from our own priorities defines for us right from wrong. “Without priority we cannot say with any degree of certainty whether right exists at all. Without it we simply have two people each telling their version of an event. It is only with our priorities that we define the rightness of one over another, and through something as arbitrary as priority do we decide what truth is.” I walked on in silence before saying, “truth to me is nothing more than what the majority of people agree upon. Truth is tested over time,” I stared down at our marching feet, “and cannot be denied until it fails to meet that test.” I kicked a rock from the road, “at which point it is adapted to make up for its failings. “Truth remains our goal despite the burdens it may face, for we do not always know the truth we seek,” my toe hurt, “and our path toward it is rarely straight,” I limped, “but we follow it nonetheless,” I stepped over the next rock, “and are better, and wiser for the trials our failures force us to endure.” “So your priority is truth?” Alexei asked as we walked on toward the only truth we both shared: this would be another afternoon paying careful inattention to the smoking hole in the side of the mountain before us, and there was no way on earth that was a meal. *** The Reds won the tunnel leading into the Nazi's underground mountain fortress while we were away. Now inside the mountain fighting, within what sketchy reports held as an enormous and well defended cavern deep within its interior, further hints of stifled accounts of men not dying when they were supposed to, became apparent. Alexei had suggested I dismiss these rumors as fantasy, and whether for his sake alone, for my own nagging disbelief, or simply because such information was not actionable from my position I allowed these curiosities to pass without further disruption. But in my own mind, right along with the once rumored existence of the very fortress we now stood in front of, I knew consensus meant something. Dismissed as popular myth by the Russian General Staff, the frequency of these reports were increasingly difficult to ignore. “What uncommon valor these men have,” Zhukov himself was rumored to have said, “what I could do with men of that caliber.” Chapter 4 Light I t was well after midnight when a series of screams and a puff of smoke from the tunnel's entrance drew our attention to yet another image that might haunt me well beyond the grave. “Why am I here?” I growled digging my palms deep enough into my eyes that I might finally be blind to this madness and swore I was – until news came we were in control of the tunnel and adjoining cavern, which I did not even ask the cost of. Maybe my formerly stifled inquiries made me cautious of what I should be asking of my hosts, or perhaps I could not live with myself knowing the full details of what I had witnessed. The battle was drawing to a close, this would be enough, and as the Redoubt guard dwindled it became clear that they could be killed, that these rumors were merely the stuff of farm boy fantasy. The Nazi's invincible S.S. were fading into history and nothing else mattered. *** Hitler – I was not near Commander Zhukov when the news hit – was captured that evening, alive! I knew this moment combined with Zhukov's vanity; his ego would be my ticket inside. Moving quickly I converged on the point I knew he would have to cross, and sure enough as he approached I was swept up in his wake as the only certainty more pleasing than a conquered foe is witnesses to the account thereof, and into the Redoubt we went. My mind raced faster than my pulse as I absorbed every detail I saw. This fortress was the stuff legends were born of, I thought while following them up the long tunnel into the mountain. The closing days of this war were upon us. The looting was not far off, which among my more tactical purposes was where I came in: to make note of this sort of installation, given its location deep within Red Army controlled territory knowledge of its very existence was otherwise unavailable to American Intelligence. Following our short hike through the dark tunnel accompanied only by my long smile we entered a chamber. A huge cavernous space, like we had walked outside again. I looked up there were no stars, nor any ceiling I could see through the smoke filled air. A vast cavern covered in a mostly destroyed labyrinth of tank traps and barbed wire obstacles opened up before me, separating us from a multilevel structure clad in burnt out machine gun nests and artillery positions forming the opposite wall several hundred feet away. To the left a bright light shone out from beyond a large door blown off its hinges. It was toward this light our party progressed into a smaller second tunnel lined with windows through which we could see the faint flicker of water filtered light. We were passing underneath a vast pool of water inside the mountain. Through this curiosity in wide eyed silence each member of our party passed, relieving their disbelief of the spectacle onto the next man as they stepped into the more familiar safety and security of the windowless granite walled hallway beyond. “An enormous sphere suspended in a watery shell some twenty five meters around it,” the leading officer said to Zhukov of our new surroundings as they entered unnoticed or unconcerned with my presence. I continued to follow at a wary distance through the second more complex chamber. Down a long hallway, around a corner, down a second longer hallway, up a dozen flights of stairs, along another hallway into a huge room leading to another room to the left, but the guards stopped me at this point. Zhukov, still ahead of me stopped at the edge of my line of sight. I stepped to the side but his guard stuck me in the ribs with his rifle butt – this was as far as I was going. But hearing Zhukov say something incomprehensible; I could not help but lean forward as the almost respectful tone of his words danced by me. The guard turned at this as well, and I slipped right and caught sight of Zhukov's cornered quarry. There he was a short old man, the funny mustache all I needed to see, he otherwise frankly didn't look the part – they never do. Suddenly yelling in German pierced my eardrums, it was Hitler all right and what a voice, this man commanded all around him. I was surprised not to see Zhukov fall into line behind his barking as it echoed off the granite walls. I know I felt it myself, like some sublime force pulling me off course. The shouting continued, it grew louder and more terminal. Something was coming and under Hitler's yelling I heard a second voice in Russian saying, “I told you this was true! You did not believe me,” said the Colonel walking past Zhukov. “Look at him!” He demanded. “That is his blood, does he look wounded?” Now standing in front of his Commander, the Colonel stared intensely as the contempt in Zhukov's eyes slowly shifted toward himself. He drew his pistol, turned and fired: once, twice and Hitler fell to the floor. Zhukov shoved the Colonel and every guard in the room quickly piled onto the man, but it was too late. Hitler lay on the floor – I moved in closer – he was bleeding badly. The Colonel yelled, “watch him!” From under his pile of guards as Hitler began to writhe; slipping around, looking for traction and finding it. Zhukov and everyone still standing took a step back mentally, if not physically as I did and stared as Hitler rose like the shouting which followed. It sounded like so many speeches I'd heard on the radio. This man once again standing before me was he undead… indestructible… supernatural? Could he have been the sacred savior so many people thought he might be? He commanded a room well enough but magnetism aside what was I seeing? How is this so? Zhukov, clearly sharing my thoughts pulled his pistol on the Colonel but turned and aimed steadily at Hitler's shoulder. The room fell silent. Seconds ticked by like minutes. Did he fire? Did I miss it? BANG! Everyone jumped except Hitler, who fell back but caught himself as blood dampening his uniform in a higher location dripped to the floor. But quickly braced from the shot, he regained his composure, lifted his head and looked up at us as Zhukov fired again, and again, and again, until his pistol emptied and smoke filled the room. Hitler slid down the back wall, breathing… He breathed. I breathed. We all breathed. Zhukov reloaded – I moved in closer – he stood looking down at his open revolver making certain it seemed the bullets felt heavy enough, that they fit into the tumbler just right, then looked straight ahead as his revolver closed, but Hitler still lay on the floor. Zhukov moved closer, leaned in, looked down and murmured something – I did not hear – but it widened Hitler's eyes and at these words he stood again, slowly collecting himself. He straightening his hair – to the wrong side as always – adjusted his uniform and looked dead ahead as Zhukov stepped back. Compliance was at hand, perhaps an understanding had been reached but who was serving whom? I stepped back as Hitler rose again dominating the end of the room, his right arm thrust up with the fascist salute followed by a single well barked, “Seig!” That sent Zhukov turning toward me. Seeing a guard with machine gun at the ready should failure be upon us, my nervous amazement split between sizing up that guard, which it was still firmly attached to and Zhukov, who having resumed his stance, found his mark, lined up, and Hitler slumped. He did not fall but looked to all the world to have had an episode of sorts. I looked at him with furrowed brow as his arm fell to his side leaving him wavering for balance. We all looked at him with an inquisition. No one watching had missed this change in deportment. The light was gone. He stood there crestfallen, looking only at the floor as we looked at him, then at each one of us with bewildering stare and paling face that competed for our attention. But it was the hammer on Zhukov's tightly gripped revolver, clicking back, that won this match as everyone's focus found him focusing only on Hitler. A guard stepped into the room saying, “the fortress is secure,” as Zhukov, with revolver steadied fired a bullet that struck Hitler just above the eyebrow, and he collapsed with a thud that froze the room like a photograph. A single coil of smoke defied the emulsion rolling off the barrel of Zhukov's gun and except for my own heart I heard nothing but the pain. We stared at the crumpled body of Hitler lying on the floor, wondering if there could be any mistaking this moment. We stared and stared, was it over? So many impossible years, countless millions murdered on every side – he did not move – by the madmen defending them, but in this second the insanity was just gone. Minutes passed in silence. Zhukov stood looking down at his fallen nemesis. The others, one by one retreated into triumph, leaving us trapped by the immense gravity emanating from the body at the end of the room. I wanted to move, but could not. Zhukov, just short of becoming a statue stepped back out of the photograph – my legs would not so much as twitch. This was a moment like few others and I knew nothing mattered more than to breathe in every detail – he turned on his heel, walked toward me and as he passed he grumbled, “this never happened.” *** I was the statue now.
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