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All around me people moved with excitement, leaning out of the train windows, waving to their families and looking unbelievably happy.
For some reason these young men seemed thrilled by the idea of going to war with Russia. And the fact that everyone was speaking German made me start imagining a dozen possible scenarios.
I had no idea what was happening or where I was, but I immediately noticed something strange. I felt much lighter, and my eyesight seemed incredibly sharp.
While my senses felt unusually heightened, more people kept boarding the train. The corridors quickly filled with soldiers, all of them smiling.
"These idiots have no idea they're marching straight into a slaughterhouse" I muttered while watching the war enthusiasm of these soldiers who believed war was something glorious.
"What was that Karl? What did you say? I didn't catch that" someone sitting across from me said in German.
I raised an eyebrow at the name. When I leaned toward the window I caught my reflection in the glass.
The face staring back at me belonged to a young man with a scar across his cheek, blond hair and green eyes.
I stayed frozen for several seconds, staring at the reflection. Then I touched my face again and again, trying to understand what had happened.
"Hello…? Are you alright? You're acting very strange Karl" the man sitting in front of me said cautiously.
"No… no… it's nothing" I replied, switching from Spanish to German.
"Are you sure… or are you scared?" he said while tapping my nose with one finger. "You look pale and nervous" he added with a grin.
"So where exactly are we going?" I asked while resting my head against my fist.
"What did you fall asleep during the Leutnant's briefing? We're going to Allenstein. We'll continue our training there and see the war with our own eyes" he said with a big smile.
"Ah… right… now I remember" I said pretending to recall.
"Uh huh" he replied, still watching me suspiciously.
I quickly started making conversation, trying to pull as much information out of him as possible without sounding suspicious. In reality there was very little I could do to avoid it. Many of my questions naturally revolved around where we were or what we were doing, and pretending I had simply forgotten things didn't always work very well.
The only thing I was sure about was that I was now in a very young body. My skin felt smooth in some places, though there were calluses forming on my hands, along with that scar on my cheek.
Apparently I had received it during a duel against another cadet from the Preußische Hauptkadettenanstalt military academy. That sort of thing seemed quite common. The mensur duel was apparently a regular practice among many of the men here, since several of them had scars across their faces.
The man sitting across from me was Hans von Hake, a Fahnenjunker, just like me. Apparently we were the same age. Sixteen.
We had been sent to the front at the start of the war so we could train in real combat. We were close to being promoted to officers, so gaining battlefield experience was considered essential by our current superior. Eventually we would hold ranks far above most soldiers despite our young age.
The reason for that preferential treatment was simple.
We were Junkers.
Minor German nobility. It was expected that we would become officers in the army or navy.
My name was Karl von Poznan, the third son of a Junker landowner from the countryside around Poznan who owned large estates and had sent me here to become a military officer.
Beyond that I knew almost nothing about who I was supposed to be.
It seemed I had either reincarnated into this body or taken possession of it, because I didn't have a single memory of this life.
Fortunately I spoke German quite well. Otherwise I would already be in serious trouble.
It had been a good decision to learn it years ago while working alongside German soldiers in Afghanistan and later while staying in Germany before deploying to Ukraine.
Because it would certainly look strange if a German noble suddenly only spoke Spanish, English, some Ukrainian and a handful of Russian words.
Eventually everything became clear.
It was 1914.
The beginning of the First World War.
Apparently karma had decided to throw me back onto a battlefield, into one of the most hellish conflicts humanity had ever created. And this time I would be standing right at the front, meat for the grinder. I no longer had the certificates proving I was a trained sniper that could keep me in defensive positions or specialized roles away from massive concentrations of troops.
I kept talking with Hans, trying to extract as much information as possible, even while he gave me occasional suspicious looks whenever I failed to know something basic.
We were assigned to the XX Korps and the 41st Division, newly formed units that had only recently been created. We were still technically in training as officers because of our age, but it was expected that we would learn on the job. Apparently there was already a shortage of competent officers due to the massive mobilization filling the front lines with cannon fodder.
The journey itself was long. The train was slow compared to the transportation systems I had been used to, but of course it was appropriate for the era.
From Berlin we traveled to Königsberg.
From Königsberg to Allenstein.
We were immediately ordered to help organize several warehouses where we would be living for the foreseeable future. They were massive military storage buildings that had been emptied out. We had to assemble beds and arrange our equipment.
The first few days were chaotic. Officers were trying to determine how many men they actually had and what equipment was available. Several times I had to follow my superiors around simply to observe how they inspected the army and ensured it was in proper condition before launching an offensive.
Checking the ammunition, spare weapons, artillery, horses, supplies, medicine, doctors… all the logistics that allowed a soldier to fire a rifle on the battlefield.
That was what I spent my time inspecting and helping the senior officers with, the ones responsible for fulfilling every order given by the Korps commander.
"I can't wait for this to start… it's a shame we'll be stuck in defensive positions while the ones sent to France take all the glory" Hans said with a grin.
"Yes, a real tragedy" I replied while stretching so I wouldn't end up with problems later. One thing I could already tell about this body was that it wasn't nearly as flexible as the one I used to have.
"I don't understand why you keep spreading your legs like that… but whatever… I've been getting along well with the Leutnant and I might convince him to send us on a reconnaissance mission. Maybe we'll get to shoot some Russians" Hans said proudly, puffing out his chest.
"Idiot" I muttered in Spanish.
"Huh? Talking nonsense again? Don't worry, I'll protect you. I know you've never been good with a rifle. If a Russian shows up I'll handle it" he said while brushing the dust from his military tunic with his knuckles.
"Yeah… sure" I replied while continuing my stretching exercises.
Suddenly, while we were talking, or rather while I was listening to this idiot fantasize about the glorious combat awaiting us, the Leutnant entered our improvised barracks. We immediately stood up along with most of the soldiers present and saluted.
"Fahnenjunker Hans, you are being assigned to support a reconnaissance mission along the border to observe the movements of the Russian Empire. Prepare your equipment and report to the Unteroffizier so you can observe how such operations are conducted" the Leutnant said, staring directly at Hans, who was practically glowing with excitement.
Then suddenly the Leutnant looked at me.
"Fahnenjunker Karl, you as well. Perhaps you'll see something more useful than ledgers and numbers and actually learn something important" the Leutnant said sternly.
"As you command, my Leutnant" I replied while looking straight at him.
The officer finally left and the barracks returned to their usual atmosphere.
"See? I told you we'd get lucky" Hans said with a big smile
"Yes, how fortunate it is to be sent to the front line" I replied with obvious sarcasm while beginning to prepare for the mission we had been assigned.
I quickly put on my feldgrau tunic and fastened my ammunition pouches and belt. I packed my backpack carefully, arranging everything I might need, and finally placed the helmet on my head.
If you could even call this garbage a helmet.
The Pickelhaube was useless against bullets. None of the helmets soldiers used in this era could stop a bullet. A round to the head meant you were dead. Ballistic helmets didn't exist yet, not even proper steel helmets that might actually protect you.
At best this thing was better than some earlier models, but it practically screamed that you were an officer… even though technically I wasn't one yet, only an officer in training.
It went against everything I had learned about not drawing attention to yourself on the battlefield. But refusing wasn't an option. In this war they wouldn't give me a dishonorable discharge like last time.
They would give me a firing squad.
So I reported to one of the quartermaster officers and was issued a Gewehr 98 rifle and a pistol. In total I carried sixty-five rounds for the rifle and sixteen rounds for the pistol. They also gave me supplies for the reconnaissance mission, travel rations and filled my canteen with water.
Finally we assembled with the Unteroffizier, roughly equivalent to a corporal, along with a group of twelve soldiers who seemed to have around two years of service. That meant they weren't much older than I was.
"So we have these young Junkers joining us today" the Unteroffizier said with a smile, though it was clear he wasn't happy about it. Few soldiers enjoy being forced to work with someone who will soon outrank them, especially when that person is much younger.
I simply nodded in response. Hans on the other hand was far more talkative and immediately started asking him questions while we began walking toward the border along one of the roads.
For a long time I stayed within the formation, fighting the urge to separate from the group. My eyes constantly scanned the surroundings, imagining a hidden sniper somewhere in the hills around us or concealed in the thick forests.
But nothing happened. We kept observing the area and continued marching.
"From that hill we'll have a good view of the Russian border" the Unteroffizier said pointing toward a wooded hill that offered a much clearer vantage point than the flat road ahead.
Without another word we began climbing the hill. The Unteroffizier pulled out a pair of binoculars and started observing the sector we were supposed to watch.
For several hours nothing happened. We simply remained there observing. Occasionally a pair of soldiers were sent to check nearby areas, since other patrols were operating in the region and we were only responsible for watching a small sector.
"But… what the hell…" the Unteroffizier muttered while looking through his binoculars.
"What is it?" I asked, tensing as I prepared my rifle.
"I see Russians… a lot of Russians… but that's impossible. They only just started mobilizing. They can't already be here" the Unteroffizier said clearly surprised by what he was seeing.
I focused my eyes on the horizon and noticed movement approaching in the distance. Columns of troops appeared to be marching toward us.
At the same time I saw a cloud of dust rising as a group of cavalry began charging in our direction.
"Call everyone back, we need to return immediately" the Unteroffizier said.
"Can you run as fast as a horse?" I asked while crouching and aiming my rifle at the approaching riders.
"No… but… don't waste ammunition. They're still too far away. You'll just waste rounds" the Unteroffizier said raising his voice.
"They're not that far" I replied while aiming at the distant figures, raising the rifle slightly to compensate for bullet drop.
I didn't even bother using the sights. At this distance the target was barely visible anyway.
I squeezed the trigger.
As I worked the bolt I saw one of the riders fall from his horse.
Then I aimed again.
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If there are spelling mistakes, please let me know.
Leave a comment; support is always appreciated.
I remind you to leave your ideas or what you would like to see.
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