The Old Prussian

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Otto Braun took a sip of cognac, he longed for the days when he could have a cigar to go with it, but those days were gone. He could hear his wife, Greta, puttering in the kitchen. She was a good cook and what she was able to do with what few supplies they had still amazed him.

He would turn 72 in a couple of months, if he lived that long. While his health was good, events in the outside world were not conducive to long life. According to the soldiers who had arrived yesterday, the outside world was coming their way, whether they liked it or not.

"Do you need anything else, my dear?"

He turned to look at his wife, she was still lovely in his eyes and he feared greatly for her safety. Refugees passing through from the east had told horror stories of the Russian soldiers. They took what they wanted and were not gentle about it.

He wanted to send her west, to get her away from all of this, but how? Would she walk? And with who? He had a duty, as he saw it, to protect the town and its inhabitants. He had been a policeman his entire life, other than a short stint in the army during the Great War. That had lasted only a few months. At least they had made him an officer!

He had been called up again, two months ago, promoted to lieutenant colonel and given a handful of Hitler Youth to prepare the village for defense. The Hitler Youth were long gone but they had trained the people in how to use the Panzerfaust and the few machine guns the Reich could spare.

Oberstleutnant Braun assumed that most of his neighbors and friends would die in the trenches they'd dug up on the ridge to the east. He didn't expect the soldiers to stay. They would move west, to the Seelow Heights and beyond perhaps, to Berlin itself. That maniac in his bunker would pull the whole country down with him.

There must be a way to survive, there has to be!

He finished his cognac, there wasn't much of that left either, then went upstairs to bed. Tomorrow, he suspected, was going to be a long day.

Leutnant von Zitzewitz examined the layout of the trenches the townspeople had constructed. Even with his limited experience he realized that the defenses were inadequate, at best. One of those townspeople climbed out of a makeshift dugout and greeted the Army officer.

"Guten Morgen, Herr Leutnant, what do you think of our work?" the man was positively beaming with pride.

"Honestly, Sir?"

"Of course."

"This will make the Russians deploy long enough to bring down artillery on your heads, then overrun you. My guess is that this will cost the Russians no more than an hour."

The man now looked crestfallen.

"It would be better if you stay in your homes and hang out white flags when Ivan comes down that road."

"But the Führer has ordered ..."

The lieutenant looked around in an exaggerated manner, his arms outstretched, "Herr Hitler is many kilometers from here, mein Herr. Neither he nor his minions will travel east of Berlin and chance meeting a Russian soldier. The Russians are my worry and mine alone."

With that the lieutenant left the ridge and walked down to the town, he met Krafft along the way.

"Herr Leutnant, how are you this fine morning?"

"Come with me, Staber, we need to convince Oberstleutnant Braun to gather all of the Volkssturm armbands and burn them. Then prepare the people to surrender to the Soviets."

"Sir?"

"You heard me, Stabsfeldwebel. Now let's go have a chat with our local constabulary."

"Surrender the town? Are you insane, Leutnant?"

Von Zitzewitz shook his head, "Far from it Herr Oberstleutnant. The Russians are coming, sooner or later. The main defense of Berlin will take place on the Seelow Heights, certainly not here. It is likely that the Russians will simply leave an occupation force here and generally leave you alone. No doubt they will begin educating you on how to be a good Communist."

Braun jumped to his feet, "Never!"

"Then I guess you are doomed and all the townspeople with you. In a day or so my men and I will be withdrawing to the heights. You will be on your own here. If you wish to fight Ivan, be my guest. He has thrown back or destroyed the best the Reich could provide, maybe there is an off chance that your village will throw him back. Unlikely though. More likely is that everyone wearing a Volkssturm armband will be killed, in action of course, then your women raped, and your property destroyed. But then again, you will have the honor of dying for the Fatherland. The Führer will, no doubt, be very pleased. If anyone bothers to tell him as Soviet artillery pounds the Chancellery."

Braun stood there for a moment, his face pale. Then he sat back down heavily, "There is no hope at all? This is defeatism, Leutnant."

"Nein, Herr Oberstleutnant, it is realism. It is your choice, surrender and maybe live, or fight and most certainly die. It is your choice."

Krafft and von Zitzewitz left Braun alone in his little office. The man looked to be in denial.

"Think he'll listen?" Krafft asked.

"Who knows? We won't be here to find out, we move out at first light tomorrow."

"Uh Sir, why not leave tonight, after dark?"

Von Zitzewitz suddenly thought of the Soviet aircraft they had seen patrolling the river a few days ago.

"Yes, can we be off tonight?"

"I would recommend it. We won't have to worry about the Red Air Force and we won't have to look at the townspeople as we leave them to their fate." Krafft looked around, "It's a shame but I have no desire to die here. I've changed my mind about that."

"So Lang was right," von Zitzewitz said.

"About what?" Krafft's face was turning red now.

"Is she coming with you?"

"Who ... I mean ... How did you know?"

"It's a small town Dieter, wartime romances start quickly, they end abruptly as well."

"Is this a problem, Herr Leutnant?"

"Only if you make it one, Stabsfeldwebel."