The East

This is a HaM side story, something vulgar and new. Scroll down to the bottom or read through it all to learn why I wrote this.

Thirty-Four crept across the tree line against a field; her crew was on edge and was trying their hardest to see out of the vision blocks. Even though she was a newer T-34, a T-34-76 with improved vision gear her crew still had problems with the lack of ability to see out of the tank. Her small team she was part of was just hit by a German gun, a big one, too. She saw that she could escape to the hills just across the field and the gun couldn’t hit her. She suggested it to the crew, the commander thought, looked around, and gave the go ahead. She ramped up her engine and threw herself across the field in an adrenaline fueled rush of power. She saw the hill come into view, she saw it coming closer and closer, saw it slowly drift to her right. She saw the scariest thing in the world on the other side.
One shot rang from Dev’s gun. One shot was all an eighty-eight needs. It hit right in the middle of the Russian tank’s hull and he knew that killed everyone inside. The tank came grinding to a halt in front of him; Dev couldn’t help but smile. This, he thought, is why I work best alone. He noticed instantly that the tank was quivering; he loaded another shot-HE-and aimed. He thought about how easy it was to kill a Russian. They’re so mindlessly predictable, they’re so weak, they’re so.., so small..,
“No! Please!” She screamed out. “Don’t hurt me; I’ll do anything you want!” Anything?
“Turn around and lift your tailpipe.” He commanded.
Thirty-Four was terrified; she knew what was going to happen. Is it worth it? She decided it was, she turned around very slow, painfully slow, and the whole time Dev was thinking of everything he could do with her. He licked his lips as Thirty-Four’s shivering body finally stopped turning and he let out his monster bow cock. It was already oozing out his precum; it dripped from his fat tip to the dirt beneath him. Thirty-Four had raised her stern and was bracing for it, for anything. She shook the dead body remnants of her disembodied crew in hopes that one could be alive. None of her old crew was alive. She was all alone, alone with whatever this tank wanted.
Dev grabbed her stern just so she couldn’t go anywhere; there was a wooden board where her precious treasure was, and so he ripped he board off and chucked it away like it was a Frisbee. Thirty-Four’s lips trembled, she became ‘pale’ and her suspension shook in fear. Dev’s hands couldn’t resist the temptation; his hands reached for and grabbed her pussy lips and moved them around. So soft! So small! Thirty-Four knew it was going to happen, she soon began to cry softly but she tried to hold her own, she tried to stand proud even still. Dev probed her twat with his fingers and spread them apart to look at just how tight she really was and his cock instantly ached at first sight. He was staring down her deep long channel and noticed how dry it looked. He simply knew she was too dry to have any fun so he toyed with her twat and rolled over her clit ball, feeling her quiver and resist in his hands and arms strengthened his desire to use her to his dirty desire.
“Please, please, sir! Please don’t! Anything else but that, please!” She pleaded as her cooling fluids began cooling her vagina more and more, against her will she was ready for it. She cried even more, Dev didn’t care; she was his slave to his every whim.
His cock could wait no longer; even though she continued to plead against it he moved her more onto his bow and lined his cock up with the hole. Her lips were being held apart by two hands and his cock was being guided by one hand. He pressed his head against her hole and let her lips close down on his head, she screamed for him to stop, she begged with every weld in her body. He didn’t care. He forced his way deep into her pussy letting out a long drawn moan and a grunt as he reached her cervix. He knew that if he went in she might get pregnant but the idea of what it’ll feel like overcame all his sympathy. He grunted and forced his way into her cervix. She stood no more. She gave in, she knew he wouldn’t stop, she let her suspension go, she let her emotions go, she began to cry and scream as Dev fucked her pussy hard. He humped her hard or he used his arms to pick her up and down his massive size. His presence hurt her with how big he was and she felt his hot inside eke out inside her so small in amount but so constantly in time. Her vagina cursed her for not letting him enter sooner but she hated herself for the occasional moan of pleasure, she couldn’t help the fact that the sex felt nice. Even though it was rape she still felt all the desires she’s had come to life again and beg her to get more. She was at war with herself now, fighting to beat those good feelings away.
Dev felt her tight, tight pussy grab onto his cock and yet felt how she hated his presence. It made him even more enthusiastic. His humps grew faster and harder and he felt her get wetter and wetter, her pussy was telling him how much she wanted his dick but her screams and cries told him she hated him and wanted him to just go away. He listened to his own wants and let his humps grow stronger and harder, pulling her down on his hard cock at the same time. Slowly he feels his climax approaching. He felt it build and build until his manners took over and he raced out and stuck his cock against her left tailpipe. He moaned very loud as he came onto her ass and into her tailpipe. He pulled off and admired his spray and decided another run would be amazing, and finishing deep, deep inside would be awesome. He felt Thirty-Four start to rejoice; she thought that it was all over, that she would be relatively unscarred by this. She was very, very wrong.
He smacked his cock against her spread pussy lips and noticed she started to cry again. He stuffed himself deep inside her again and moaned aloud, relaxing and stiffening again inside her. He took this moment to grope her clit and her right tailpipe while he pumped his cock tiff. He felt her pussy constrict on him, he felt it grow hotter and felt her quiver more. ”Oh, yes! Cum! Cum for me! Do it! Do it you fucking slut!” She felt extremely ashamed, she screamed as she came on him, then as she wound down she cried and tried to claw her body off of him but he held her tight. He fucked her slow and steady, making sure she really felt him ooze out his second dose of precum and feel every inch of his huge cock. He steadily felt his climax rise up, the feelings made his eyes roll into the back of his mantle. All of a sudden Thirty-Four felt a huge amount of hot fluids fill her deep insides. She was shocked; her pussy finally cried out in pleasure but she knew the consequences, she knew what followed. She trembled with fear. Dev kept her there for at least a minute as he filled her more and more, she cried aloud and wailed to the skies. As soon as Dev let her go she threw herself off of him and her hull dropped to the ground. Dev had his cock standing tall and proud, covered in his cum and her coolant.
“Look at it!” He commanded. She ignored him, he moved closer to her as she tried to move away. “Look at it!” He grabbed her gun barrel and pulled it to the side towards him. Her green eyes looked into his brown pleading no more, pleading for him to just go away. “Look at it! Look at how big it is.” He waved his cock in front of her face, she tried to look around it but it was big and it caught her mind, that is what just ruined my life. He made sure she noticed it by smacking it against her face. “Lick it, lick it clean you slut!”
“No!” She screamed. “No! Go away! Go aw-ay-y!” She cried again, the warm tears rolled down his long shaft.
“Lick. It.” He ordered, with a trembling tongue she licked his shaft and pulled it back in, he ordered her to lick every inch of it. She was forced to obey. She licked from bottom to top and when she reached the top more of his cum would glop out either onto her tongue or her turret or face. Once he was clean he smiled wide and backed off, admiring the work he had done and wished he had a camera. She was crying and staring at the ground with his cum on her turret and face, some on her ass and oozing from her left tailpipe, and a tail of it oozing from her spread pussy. He turned and drove off, leaving Thirty-Four do deal with the aftermath.
Thirty-Four regained herself around midnight that night and looked for any comforting thing she could find. Her usual friends weren’t there to ease her distress, the moon was dark and barren, the clouds were soulless and still, the animals were nowhere, the grass was evasive and stiff, she was alone. Tears uncontrollably streamed down from her dim and dull green eyes and her whole body aches and quivered knowing what had happened, her vagina seemed to be on fire and crying itself now knowing what it had done. Her wound on her chest burned and throbbed, she saw herself barely bleeding from it and covered it with the saw from her side. Her body barely complied with her, so much distress and anxiety and terror filled her mind and heart, and her clouded mind couldn’t think of what to do. Every now and again she would completely stop and drop her hull and cry, wail, bawl, then move again. She knew that she wasn’t as good as the German tanks, they could go well over 200 kilometers no problem, but she remembers barely going 20 before something on a T-34 broke; much less than that she barely had any fuel left, she was stranded.
At around dawn she felt a tight and churning pain in her gut, her mouth watered, and she felt the need to put metal in her mouth. She tried ignoring it for a while but the pain grew and grew and grew, festering and festering and festering until she could stand it no more. She searched around for anything metal but found only herself in the tall grasses. She remembered she still had ammunition, she cautiously plucked a shell from her rack and moved it through the remnants of her only company and handed it out of her driver’s hatch. She stared at it, her mouth watered even more, just looking at it made her gut make a strange growling sound. As she opened her mouth and moved the shell to her mouth she shivered in terror and anticipation, she hesitated but suddenly bit down on the round and ripped it out of the canister. Pouring out the black gunpowder she thought of how good the shot tasted, the iron tang and the steel whirl filled her mouth making her smile, she bit into the brass canister and fell in love with the taste. She bit more furiously until she had devoured the whole shot. As she swallowed the final bite she felt better but she was still hungry, she went for her shots and ate three more by snapping the shot out and dumping the powder on the ground while chewing that shot. Once she had eaten the shots she moved on to the main course and devoured the canisters just like the first one. She felt satisfied and got a little creative, the little mound of gunpowder on the ground sparked her curiosity and she tried picking up a pinch. It slipped like sand between her fingers; she licked her fingers and tried again. This time it worked and she had a coating of gunpowder on her finger, she stuck her tongue to it and instantly reeled back. She spat at the ground and shook the powder off her finger; it was a very bitter and foul taste in her mouth. She moved on, not quite sure where she was heading however, and thought of what was going to happen to her. She figured she was going to get even hungrier and realized that her ammunition would not subsidize enough. She only knew one place where for sure she could get enough metal, only one place: her dead unit.
She moved back to them and came across the four other tanks, the fires that once ensured their destruction had long ago burnt out, but knew they still had diesel in their fuel tanks. She looked upon the dead crews and saw that some scavengers had made the dead a meal, she felt sick to her stomach at how they looked. She was disgusted by that but her thoughts of how she was to feed herself disgusted her even more. As she looked on the dead metal T-34s she knew that eventually she would nourish herself with them. It scared her out of her mind, it felt like cannibalism, like something very wrong. It felt like a sin yet it is the only option she has. She began to cry again, not only was she defiled and her pride destroyed, but now she must turn cannibal to survive, she cursed herself, she dammed that Tiger and she bawled until dusk, screaming curses and damnations upon the world. That night she did indeed grow hungry again, she tried putting it off as long as possible but she eventually gave in. She grabbed at a first production T-34’s gun and tried ripping it from its socket. Instead of giving out it stayed firm, she grew furious and enraged and shook the tank hulk and beat at it until the whole turret was sheared off of its mount. She breathes heavily while looking upon her work, she exposed the two dead crewmen slumped over in their seats, and their outfits dirty and bloody and shredded by the shrapnel of a penetrating 88 millimeter round. She dropped the heavy turret to the ground and jerked off the hatch and began eating that. Sitting there eating one of her own made her cry, she sobbed as she ate the hatch and felt mournful for all the dead crewmen slaughtered by that German monster! She grew extreme hatred towards him, towards the Germans, towards the war. She munched on the T-34 hatch and thought about how much she hated that Tiger tank for an hour.
A few days later she noticed she craved different metals and materials. She noticed this because she would feel hungry and think about a material and whenever she looked at that material she became really hungry. She had eaten steel, iron, brass, copper, tin, gold, other various metals and even the rubber off of the wheels. This time it sickened her to her core, she couldn’t stop thinking about flesh, about meat, she wanted it and when she thought of it her mouth watered. She had almost no meat around, she let out all the dead crewmen from the other tanks and they had been mostly eaten away by animals in the night. She did have some meat left, she still had her crew. She was growing hungrier and hungrier but she refused, she absolutely refused. They were all she had left, she talked to them, she thought them as her close friends and she refused to eat and destroy her friends. It started in the morning and by dusk she was crazy, the hunger and pain were driving her up a wall. She gave in and pulled out a rotting arm from the driver, it had a gold band on the second longest finger and shards of her and that German’s round in his flesh. As she looked at the piece of man she broke into tears, she wept hard again and started yelling out ‘why?’ to the heavens. She could stand no more, both physically, emotionally, and mentally, and she collapsed and gave in. She slowly, with trembling hands, moved the ugly and rotting arm to her shaking mouth and wept her eyes out as she shut them tightly, for she couldn’t stand to watch herself do this, and thus let her jaws sink into the flesh of her friend. She hated herself for enjoying the texture and taste, she wanted to die right there as she chewed on the flesh and bone of her crewman, and she wished that she was never even made while she swallowed. She quivered and shook madly as she ate the rest of the arm, bone and clothes included. She hoped that she would just eat that, no more flesh, no more of that, but when she still felt that want she lost all hope. A week after their encounter Dev had wholly broken Thirty-Four and everything she had, pride, hope, joy, wonder, all were destroyed because of him. She vowed to find him one day, she vowed that Stalin would send those fascist bastards back to Germany, back to Hitler, back to their families, back all in boxes and pieces. She had a burning passionate hatred; no she despised him with a veil of apathy. No amount of words from any language on the world has a word to describe exactly what intense animosity she held for that coward, that German Nazi coward.
She woke up one night in a panic, she felt absolutely terrible, like her insides were on fire and she just had to get it all out. She scrambled and chucked whatever she could out of her hatches regardless of what it was, rotting corpses, live ammunition, spent casings, a handle, some tools, all were chucked out. Once she had essentially gutted herself she caught her breath and looked at her dead friends. Even though she had grown cold to seeing their dead flesh, she had by this time eaten much of the loose body limbs, seeing them thrown about moved her. Their faces were in shock and horror, stiffened and froze in their final breathing moments when they were staring into the face of that German Nazi coward. She felt in the morning why she had that huge urge to gut her cabin, and that reason was because her cabin locked down and the whole assembly for the commander and loader were folded into her turret with a new floor at her turret ring. This discovery both excited her and scared her. She again was hungry and as she was eating some engine parts she worried how heavy she would get and how she would feed herself meat if she had to. She had pulled out her bow gun in her frenzy and all of its ammunition, but how was she going to use it well? She had no clue how to shoulder a weapon (it doesn’t even have a butt stock and she tried to shoulder it) nor how she was going to aim it from her ‘shoulder.’ She was playing around with positions when she tried putting it between her eyes like her main gun. She realized she didn’t have to use that anymore and so she opened the breech and stuffed the machine gun into the breach, it was a little awkward but she figured this would work best. She practiced loading it and decided to try some target practice while she could. She used a tree as her target and used her hand to carve an ‘X’ into the wood. She backed off about thirty yards and fired in bursts to learn exactly where it spread: to the left and down. From there she practiced using her natural point of aim to point her 76 millimeter on the target and from there adjusted to the right and up. Once she had gained a sense of mastery over her aim she decided to hunt for food. No, she thought, ambush. She gathered up her dead comrades and piled them up under the tree sat back very still, and waited. She knew the wolves would be back, all she had to do was wait. Eventually her patience paid for itself and she nabbed two wolves with one burst. She victoriously approached the wolves and ensured they were dead. With that she saved a few pieces for later bait and finally decided to bury her deceased comrades like she did the others.
“Rest in peace, friends.” She finally let herself have peace; she no longer clung to the dead and found herself a sense of self-reliance. That night she rejoiced about not having to eat her friends any longer and gorged down on wolf meat.
Months passed, she ate meat only a little bit once a month from that first wolf night on and mostly metal and rubber with a couple bits of glass scattered here and there. She ate the entire turret of two T-34s and their guns, lights, and electrical systems. Every now and then she would snack on her favorite dessert: brass casings, but her meals mostly consisted of the cold cast steel of the turrets and hatches with rubber sides. She had gained a few tons and had grown very immobile, she feared that she was soon due and worried with fear and hatred of the result. She constantly had nightmares where it was a little Tiger like its father; she knew she would hate it. But all this work and all to kill this innocent child? Either way she looked she still made a long knife blade-like weapon from the side panel of a turretless tank. One afternoon she felt strange feelings inside her, it was closer to finishing. That following morning she went into labor, she screamed at the top of her lungs with pain, she cursed that German Nazi coward and her designers for the pain, it felt like her engine was being shat out her tailpipes, she pushed hard, she pushed and pushed and screamed until she felt the baby exit her body. What was happening was her womb was in her cabin at the front while her vagina and uterus are along her belly under the engine, her whole engine block was moved around the baby as it exited. Her whole entire body ached, it burned with anger, it quivered with anticipation, and as she pulled the baby around by the road wheels she drew her weapon. She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth; the baby was in front of her now squirming around and grabbing at her hands. She raised her blade and opened her eyes. She saw a tiny T-34-76, just like her. Her arms buckled and dropped the blade off to the side of her, she couldn’t kill this. She instantly felt rewarded; she lashed at her baby and pulled it up and on her chest right under her chin. Her eyes were tightly shut and streaming tears. She opened them and admired the hot bundle of a baby in her arms; it was only a sixth of her size and a dull gray mostly with silver areas. She noticed that the silver areas were just her placenta fluids. She cleaned her baby with her hands and tried her best to shield it from the cold springtime air of the night.
She found its eye sockets and cleaned them off, soon and shakily they opened and revealed amazing brown eyes, she instantly wanted to name it Alyona but didn’t know what her baby’s gender was yet. She searched around the butt plate for a slit but didn’t find anything. She prayed that the brown eyes were the only trait that it possessed and searched the front lower plate. She found a slit and gently inserted a finger to find something, she did find a penis, and she had a beautiful baby boy! She rejoiced that it shared Russian anatomy and thought about a name for a boy. She came up with Adler. She hugged him and carried him to the two T-34s she used to shield herself from the winter winds and build fires by. She quickly made a fire with the still working spark plugs from the T-34 and put Adler next to the fire and blocked him from the wind. She continued cleaning him and noticed how upset he was.
“What’s wrong, Adler? Are you cold?” She moved him closer to the fire but he scooted back to her and grabbed at her tendrils and tried putting them into his mouth. She hesitated because of how sharp his teeth already were and what she has done to thicker metal. She realized he was hungry instantly but wasn’t sure what to do. She had her feeding tendrils under her tow hooks and felt them grow thicker and heavier as she grew closer to birthing Adler. She put one up to Adler’s lips and braced for the pain but none came. Instead he grabbed it with his lips and sucked on it, Thirty-Four felt her ‘milk’ slip into Adler’s mouth. He slowly sucked less and less until he had fallen asleep. Thirty-Four slowly plucked her nipple from his mouth and retrieved it. She, too, was exhausted and wanted to just go to sleep. She pulled her son up onto her chest and held him tight and she scooted up to the fire to keep him warm. She watched him sleep in her arms as she herself drifted to sleep.
She loved her son; she loved him more than she loved anything else in the world, more than Stalin, more than Russia, more than herself. She would do anything for him, he was her sole joy, her sole pride, her sole family and sole friend. Every day she talked to him, teaching him what she knew, helping him speak, helping him learn to crawl, rigging belts from his drive wheel to his rear road wheel so he could move using his stronger drive ability. She cared and nurtured his every need. There were nights when she felt the smallest sliver of thankfulness of that German. Only the smallest sliver. Of all the things she would teach him she would not teach him anything about where Adler came from.
“Momma, where did I come from?”
“Let’s not worry about that right now, Adler, how many bullets are in my hand?” He looked into her hand and poked at each of the machine gun bullets in her hand.
“Very good! You’re such a smart boy!”
One morning in the summer Adler was awoken by a small and warm hand on his side. He opened his eyes and there was a strange animal next to him, there were two of them. They both were dirty and had tan skin with no hair on them but around their head and had green chests and black legs. They smiled at him, one waved at him and the other put down his long brown rifle and fumbled around in his side toolbox.
“Hallo. Wie lautet dein name?” The one that touched him said, Adler wasn’t really sure what he said but he thought he knew. He thought he asked what his name was.
“Adler.” The one that was fumbling around in his toolbox pulled out a big bearing and shook it at him.
“Sie möchten Ball spielen?” Adler had no idea what he said that time. He was surely asking a question, though. The two strange animals gestured for him to watch, they tossed the bearing between them. They wanted him to play catch with them. He smiled and shook his gun up and down. The two animals smiled and tossed the bearing to Adler. He expected to be a lot heavier with its size but it was really light, maybe as heavy as a wrench. It also felt strange, it was not metal. He passed it back to the one who was furthest. They passed it between them for a little while. Thirty-Four woke up to Adler’s giggling.
“What’re you up to?” She looked over to where he was giggling and saw two German soldiers next to him. “ADLER GET AWAY FROM THEM!” She yelled sternly as she charged to him. The smiling soldiers instantly became terrified and turned to run, gathering their rifles and running off as fast as they could. Adler was scared, too.
“Mommy why? Why did you scare them away!?” She grabbed a hold of him and drug him to her side, she was breathing hard and looked angry.
“They are bad people! Do not trust them, Adler, they are nothing but rats! Terrible rats!” He didn’t feel the same way, they had done nothing to him but play with him.
“But they were nice, mommy. They didn’t seem bad to me.”
“Quiet Adler! They are all terrible rats at their core!” She went back to fix him some breakfast and left him there. He moved up and picked up the discarded bearing. He examined it with his brown eyes very carefully, he couldn’t deduce where this bearing would go so he took it to his mother. She was still angry and was ripping the metal bits off of the T-34 that had its engine deck missing; he always wondered why they were like that.
“Momma, what’s this bearing?” He handed her the bearing and she instantly knew it was not a bearing.
“This is no bearing, Adler. This is a ball. Where did you get this?”
“I was playing with the Germans with that, it’s a ball? What’s a ball?”
“It’s a game piece; you use it to play games like catch. Don’t play with those Nazi rats again.” He was quiet as she made the shards of metal into chips for Adler.
“What’s a Nazi?”
“A German. A fascist. They invade other countries and kill their people. Their disgusting leader is Hitler; he’s the Nazi that Russia will kill for the justice of the world!” She said this so pridefully, Adler still didn’t understand completely. Thirty-Four sighed in anguish. “The Nazis control this Russian soil.”
“So did Nazis do this?” He pointed at a shot hole in one of the T-34’s hull.
“Yes Adler. Cowardly Nazis did that.” She said coldly, “here’s your breakfast, Adler. Eat up.” She said blankly. She handed him his plate, an armored hatch off one of the turrets, and on that plate was the chips of armor. Adler ate his breakfast with haste and was soon ready for the day. Thirty-Four sent him off to do his tasks, collect firewood, check the traps, and switch out the filled water collectors for empty ones. That was all he had to do every day. Thirty four didn’t do as much moving but she prepared his meals and kept a close watch on him and coached him with his mobility. He never would stray too far from his mother so she could keep an eye on him and she would never take an eye off him. After the chores were done they would play games like catch or sword fight with sticks but after that she would teach him lessons like counting, vocabulary, terminology, and what little history she knew. Whenever he asked a question she didn’t know the answer to she would try her best to make one. After the lesson was usually dinner time where she fed him and they cuddled up to each other. That was Adler’s favorite time, he loved his mom and loved being in her arms, he always felt good in her arms.
Months passed and Thirty-Four soon heard explosions and fighting in the distance, she grew excited every time a battle erupted. Adler would cower in her arms whenever he heard the explosions and would think of a nightmarish creature a thousand feet high stepping on T-34s with a wicked chattering laugh like his mother’s machine gun. Thirty-Four stayed up most nights and it all paid off one night: the triumphant Red Army had liberated her and her son! She saw brand new and intimidating T-34 tanks proudly carrying their big and long guns in the air and red banners waving in the wind. Trucks upon trucks of battle ready infantry moved past her, she woke up Adler and showed him Stalin’s proud army. She pointed out whatever she could, the heavy KV tanks still left, the AT guns, the infantry, the new T-34 tank. He was in awe of it all while his mother was inspired to steam roll the pathetic German lines.
“Are you lost?” A big tank stopped and spoke to Thirty-Four, she seemed powerful and strong. She saw the wrecked shambles of T-34s and caught a glimmer of Thirty-Four’s gray shot hole. “Are you alright?”
“Yes,” she said excitedly as she turned towards her and brought Adler along her side, “we’re fine.”
“Who are you?” Adler asked.
“Shellproof.” Suddenly she spurred ahead, yelled at by an angry crew. “Come along! Follow me!” Thirty-Four put Adler on her chest and followed Shellproof, happy that she always kept her fuel tanks full. She brought her engine to life and quickly caught up to Shellproof’s side.
“So what has changed?”
“Since?” Thirty-Four thought hard, when did she fall out of time? She backtracked two winters, one pregnant and one with Adler, and figured around summer 1942. “Well we lost ground, we got it back, we got bigger and better tanks like myself and the T-34-85.”
“An 85 gun?”
“Yes, that’s what I have; I’m the new heavy tank. I’m a Iosif Stalin One. I share the same gun as the T-34s there.”
“So why did we put the 85 on the tanks?”
“To kill Tigers at their fronts.” A devilish smile came over Thirty-Four, she closed her eyes and fascinated herself with the sight of his destruction. She opened her eyes and followed Shellproof on her journey.
“We’re in good hands now, Adler, we will be fine.” She rocked Adler to sleep on her chest and stuck with her newfound unit, staying close to Shellproof when she wasn’t in combat. Even though she wasn’t treated the best, neither was Adler, many soldiers helped her and we’re kind to her, helping feed Adler.

Fin The East

I did this not only as an origin story for future characters but because I feel like I’ve put too much innocence on the Germans and made them out to be the good guys. This is to show that they raped and pillaged, to show that the German army did bad things. That said so did the Russians, and the British, and probably the Americans, too. I say probably because I’ve neither read nor heard anything of rape or pillaging by U.S. forces in the theaters of WWII, but that may have been censored by officials, while there is definite evidence of rape and pillaging in Vietnam. So the chances of it in WWII are just as strong. Will I write about rape again? Probably not. No side on the war was clean and pretty, both for sure carpet bombed unarmed and peaceful cities and both also fought to protect those people. What matters in the end is that the corrupt Nazis were ended; the atrocities the Nazis committed make this rape, make Al Qaeda, make ISIS look like children in over their heads. The SS would laugh at the threats of ISIS, the beheading of their innocent people would fill them with rage but not one would flinch. After, they would raid a village with no connection to ISIS, other than country and religion, round up every man in a mosque, every woman and child in big houses, and chuck grenades and bombs into the buildings, fire their weapons through the walls and barred door, then end with blazing the whole village until ash remained. Then they would feast on top of the ashes and have a merry time before they moved on to rinse and repeat at another village until they felt vengeance had been reached. This is the things the SS divisions like ‘Das Reich’ did, other atrocities included hanging 119 men from the street lamps and posts, of only 2 were resistance fighters, rounding up ‘Jews’ and using firing squads to kill them, either leaving the dead there or killing them atop a mass grave. The things they did were indescribable and hopefully will only be seen by footage and never again in the real, and yes the Wehrmacht did participate in this that was by enlistment and orders of SS officers. The whole reason why concentration camps were even conceived was because units on the eastern front were becoming so demoralized by all the mass shootings. No, not every Wehrmacht soldier knew about these atrocities, when walked through the concentration camps they were horrified just as much or more than the nearby citizens, the fact that they stood and bled and fought for that drove a few crazy and they committed suicide in the following years. Imagine the thought that your leader, the man or woman or idol that saved your nation, that saved your family from extreme poverty and rebuilt your life to prosperity and entrusted you to protect them and their belief for the betterment of the world. Now imagine walking through a death camp, the fences lined with bodies that stacked as tall as your house, nude and frail bodies barely breathing staring you in the eye. Imagine what hell that would do to you, the fact that you fought for this, and yet the SS that survived are still among us today and most aren’t even phased by it.

Category: Gingyflame, Stories  |  Tags: , , , , ,


3 Responses to “The East”
  1. Wolvs says:

    Rape is something I never liked and will never but at least this does add some realism to war and apparently the mass majorities of American war crimes happened in the Pacific.

  2. Ratbat says:

    So I know it seems like I go long swaths of time in between my replies. I want you to know that I am still reading your stuff though, the time I have is rather limited. I wanted to tell you that I am not sensitive to rape as most of the people are in general. Cerebral wrote a story about a slice of life scene with an IS2 tank and it wasn’t meant to be sexual but more of a juxtaposition of the horrors that happened in WWII using the whole living machine theme and I loved that story all the same.

    I think sometimes when people read your stuff they can forget that these huge tanks are supposed to be people as well. Shit that happens to them, physically, emotionally, Its directly translatable to a heal human undergoing those ordeals. That said, Delta was a little bit concerned that you wrote this in response to him visiting Bovington for Tiger Day, I assured him that it was just coincidence. In any case, There’s a dark side to all this, and that I kinda got off a little on the tigers assertion.. When I dont think of him as a person, but as a tank.. tank on human ect.. I dunno.. I cant help but be turned on when a tiger shows his cock “Look at it! Look how big it is!” because.. fuck.. I honestly want that right now.

    Sorry for being fucked up haha. This has nothing to do with your characters.

  3. Gingyflame says:

    So first off to Delta, and please pass this on if you can, Delta I didn’t write this in response to you at Tiger day. This had been in the making for maybe two weeks prior. I am still very envious of you, lucky shit. And on the topic of rape as I said it was to show that no side was clean, that the Germans did terrible things, too, that we all did, because war is fought with human beings in times of desperation and madness. Honestly the hardest part to write, and the last part I wrote, was the actual rape scene. I wrote the introduction first, started the rape but then got no where because it wasn’t motivating, and thus I went on to write my favorite part which is her struggle. I absolutely loved writing all about her instinctive needs and executions, her misunderstood feelings and new problems she had to face. Once I had ended that I actually was about to post when I realized there was no actual impregnation, so I reluctantly had to go back and finish that.
    I do want to continue their stories, and these three Russians especially play a part later on in the main story.

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