Deutchland, Wach!

[SKILORD]

nothing came...

I'll keep trying.

[SKILORD]

Chapter 23: Fallen Angels

((NB: Whow, I'm glad I waited until now, this is way better than what was there the other night. Coincidentally, any of you guys know the Trans-Siberian Orchestra? I cannot imagine being able to listen to TSO and not being inspired to write. I had to stop it where I did because I really should be asleep, so its short, but I really like it.))


There are moments that hold such hope that one cannot help but smile. Days that seem so ripe with the promise of a future rewritten and of destiny changed, hours that the feeling of humanity’s strength pounds proudly against the breast. There is sunshine that we fiercely pray never dips below the horizon, and yet even when it does we are confident in these moments that we will forever stand and triumph.

These are the days in which there are no insurmountable odds, in which every tyrant will fall forever and that the logs of history will frame the sunshine of these moments for future generations to cherish. Smiling there in the Oxford sunshine Johan von Bismarck knew these things and felt each emotion coursing frantically and hopefully through his veins.

“Bismarck, I presume?” the man smiled rakishly, his beret tipped at an odd angle.

The smile couldn’t fade, “Indeed, you would be?”

“David Jones, British Independent Militia.”

Johan’s grin grew, “I thought it was an army?”

David laughed, “The press misnamed us, Armies don’t fight for freedom.”

Johan offered his hand to the other man, and a firm and confident shake received it.

“Thanks for the help out there.”

David laughed again; he had a melodious and cheery laugh that only added to the grandeur of each passing moment as they passed bountifully through the fingers of the assembled, “It was a pleasure.”

They stood together for a moment, smiling to everyone and observing each passing smile as the people of Oxford worked with the Germans on the wall, one of the few damaged parts of the city.

It was easy for them to forget the pale bodies stained with their own blood that had been shoveled out of the city to lie fermenting in their own filth as the flies gathered for an orgy of feasting and breeding. It is easy in these moments of triumph to turn ones back on these fallen foes to whom the battle was ever so less victorious, the blood that stained so many hands could be so easily ignored and so quickly wiped out of view.

Johan and David smiled at each passing soul, working and struggling to rebuild.

“What’s after this?” David turned to Johan.

Johan frowned, casting his mind deep into the future where his plans lay in their holy beauty, undefiled by the realities that would so quickly encompass them, “We’re moving out to the countryside, our tanks can’t help much in the city, we’ll leave you some supplies but it’s a big city, you can get your own, and the walls will keep you safe.”

David frowned ferociously, “So you just plan to abandon us here?”

Johan was taken aback, “If you can’t keep this city, if so many soldiers pledge their allegiance to Rhodes and so few to your armies then who is to say you deserve it?”

“You’ll turn your back on Oxford?”

“I have no vows to fulfill to Oxford, I serve freedom.”

David snarled cruelly, his face contorting itself violently, “Oxford is free.”

“Yes, but there are others to be freed.”

“I thought you came here to serve the British people.”

“I came here to light a fire, not to burn.”

“If the Germans leave this city then who will defend it?”

“You and your militia, we aren’t so much better at the arts of war than you.”

“And if they retake it?”

“Then you have let them.”

David’s face was forced into a growl, his glaring eyes searing into Johan’s flesh, “So be it, German,” David Jones cast the spit cruelly out of his mouth, “You are of no use to me.”

Johan von Bismarck stared amazed at the spit which sat, expectantly on his sleeve, staring aggressively upwards to him, he turned his back on the revolutionary and returned to his army. The sunshine was shattered, the moments had fallen apart and a frown stole his lips.

-

The tanks were rolling out of the city and the children cheered triumphantly, waving their arms excitedly as the tanks crawled from the city, the women often smiled hidden smiles to the tankers, the men cast their eyes to the ground and remained silent, David had spoken to them, Bismarck assumed. It was a mixed departure.

“Oi! Krauts!” a man was running to Bismarck’s tank, where he sat in the cupola, he turned around quickly.

The man hopped onto Johan’s tank, David Jones glared from a doorway far behind, “I need to get outta ‘ere, these blokes aren’t much better than old eddie.”

Johan had to smile, the man stayed perched on the tank.

[Paddy]

thank you

[SKILORD]

No Probbem

Election tomorrow, gotta go do my part to bring down the establishment parties

Go Libertarianism!

[ChrisiusMaximus]

for the last two parts well done mate

Superb story this hope to see more soon

[SKILORD]

I'll try (Halo2 is screwing me up)`