Konrad Feldpetzer

November 4th, 1943

Partisan Base, Paris, France

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We all instantly went on high alert at the sounds of gunfire echoing in the halls of the base. The cordial environment in the armory instantly vanished, instead replaced with an aura of fear and worry.

Reuben frowned, eyes glued to the door, “Do you think we’ve been found?”

“We’re not talking any chances,” Niko grunted, turning to Wolfram, “Can you handle an SMG?”

Wolfram hesitated a second, but replied, “…yes.”

Niko nodded, “Good. Reuben, give Wolfram the STEN.”

It was then that a group of partisans burst in. Niko & I instinctively dropped into firing positions, covering Reuben and Wolfram and ready to let loose a maelstrom if need be.

“Don’t fire!” one of the partisans shouted. Thankfully, we managed to avoid a friendly fire massacre. Niko & I strapped the firearms onto our backs, with me sighing in relief.

Niko quickly recovered, “Where are the fascists coming from?”

“Southwest entrance,” another partisan replied. Wait. I recognized that voice. Annette!

Niko gave a determined grimace, “Then everyone grab all the weapons you can! Ammo and munitions too! We’re going to fight our way to the eastern garage!”

We all got to work, but the British man nervously echoed, “Fight?”

“There’s no other option,” I replied, my steady voice cutting through the buzz of activity that came with all the other partisans. It was completely unrepresentative of the utter panic that was building up underneath, even with the knowledge that Annette was safe for now and with us. The only outwards indicator was my now jittering jaw as I loaded more magazines with .308s, “They already know where our base is, so they can just flood us with soldiers. Our only chances are with escaping.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Reuben anxiously mumbled as he grabbed what looked like a jury-rigged shotgun from a cabinet alongside a rucksack he began stuffing with munitions, some random first aid, and other miscellaneous. Of course, his shaking hands weren’t lost on me. They only seemed to get worse as more gunshots rang out, seemingly closer.

I quickly walked over to a gun rack, quickly grabbing a P08 pistol and a few magazines for it before they were all taken by the other partisans. I didn’t have anywhere secure to put so I had to settle for putting it in my pants pocket, praying that the safety would hold.

Niko had quickly grabbed an M1911 alongside several magazines for his rifle, with Wolfram somehow managing to find the TT33s. Reuben had even produced a British-made revolver, and Annette sported her standard MP40 with several magazines hook to what seemed like a belt across her waist.

“Alright,” Niko announced, “Is everyone ready to fuck up some fascists?”

I winced at the image in my mind of the coming bloodbath as more gunshots fired off, but didn’t comment. Almost immediately, the partisan group of around 19 shouted, “Yes!”

Wolfram seemed ecstatic. Or perhaps that was nervousness. Reuben was much more visibly jittery, his left hand twitching on the shotgun’s stock and his right trembling like a sapling in a storm. Annette seemed to be holding up decently well.

Niko nodded in resolute grimness, “Now; the plan is to make a break for the eastern entrance; it goes up to a garage where our ticket to freedom is. It’s well-hidden too, so I doubt they found it.”

“But what about the others?” Wolfram asked, beating me to the punch, “They’ll die!”

More gunshots rang out to punctuate that statement. I could barely handle the idea of letting more people die when I could do something. It felt like Maxime’s death all over again.

I tried to keep a lid on my rising panic by flexing my hands, and it seemed to work well enough.

Niko glared at the man, “This is war. People die. But we have several talented fighters in this group. I trust they’ll survive. For now, we have to focus on our group here. Our path will hopefully avoid most of the fascist fucks.”

All in all, our ragtag group’s preparations had taken about a minute. The fact that we’d be jumping headfirst into what could very well be hell incarnate made that minute feel stretched out over hours.

“Alright, I’ll take point. Konrad goes behind me. The rest of you spread out behind us and keep an eye on our rear.”

With that, he walked over to the door, glancing at us all. I hurriedly made my way over, swapping my FG42 rifle to my right arm. It’d hurt like hell but I didn’t have the luxury of being able to use my left.

Reuben managed to get in behind me, shotgun in hand and rucksack on back, and Wolfram at his side. The rest of the partisans flanked out a bit, looking like a bit of a wave. Annette was in the last row.

We instantly begin moving, the sounds of combat sounding more visceral as the echoed through the halls without the walls of the armory muffling them. We could hear the screams of both partisans and Germans. One thing we noticed immediately was how dark it was.

The electricity had been shut off or messed up, for sure. Thankfully, there was enough lighting from non-electric sources such as candles that it wasn’t pitch black.

As our eyes adjusted to the light level, we moved forward. Niko had seemed to be correct; most of the combat came from the opposite side of the base from us. While signs of chaos were evident in overturned trays of food, falling papers, and dropped miscellaneous, it was more just people going on alert immediately than combat.

“I’m an armorer for a reason,” I heard Reuben fearfully mumble behind me, barely audible over the gunfire echoing in the halls, “I don’t want to die.”

I grit my teeth, putting on the bravest front I could, “You’re not gonna die. Keep your head straight and we’ll make it out alive.”

“Be strong, comrade,” I heard Wolfram’s whispers from behind the Brit, “Be strong for your people.”

That seemed to at least keep Reuben quiet as we moved. Apart from that, no one else dared to speak either.

The quiet was shattered as Niko abruptly fired his rifle, the sound nearly deafening in the tight space and the muzzle flash blinding compared to the dim light we’d been navigating. Reuben and I, along with several other partisans, screamed in fear, and I thanked god that none of us had reflexively pulled the trigger on our guns. That could have turned into a tragedy real fast.

We heard a dull thud in front of us, and I saw that it was a German soldier with a Kar98k.They fell face first onto the stone floor, rapidly turning crimson.

Niko growled, “Move faster.”

We began to jog, Reuben struggling to keep the pace due to his rucksack but he managed with the help of some partisans. We navigated through the halls like rats scuttering through the pipes. It felt nightmarish to see the place I’d considered a safe haven for the past few months be turned into hell on earth.

Everywhere we looked, bodies littered the ground. Blood splatters coated the walls, with bullet holes on almost every surface. Furniture was shattered, and I even saw evidence of wooden boards and lanterns being turned into makeshift weapons, clutched until their wielders’ dying breath.

Then, the ripping of an MG-42 tore through the halls with a blinding light.

The noise made me nearly freeze in fear as I swung backwards. The front part of the group stopped completely, the rest turning around to face where the noise had come from. Over half of our group had been torn to shreds by the MG, reduced to bloody remains on the floor.

Annette was among them.

I felt my heart nearly stop before I saw her and a few other partisans moving, trying to kick off the butchered bodies of the fighters that taken the brunt of it.

I couldn’t tell if she was injured, though, since her entire being was caked in red.

Within a second, she kicked the torn upper corpse off of her legs and sat up, MP40 blaring in the tight hallway into a neighboring one. She and a few other partisans stumbling to their feet, getting back to pace.

Another bang of a gun. Niko again. A German had just turned the corner on a hallway adjacent to ours, shouting “Here!” before he dropped them.

Our jog turned into a full on sprint, as we very nearly skidded around hallway corners. Niko had long ago shouldered his rifle, opting to use his M1911 as we ran. It wasn’t too accurate, but it was enough.

Niko quickly fired several shots into another German, with Wolfram quickly succeeding him by unleashing a maelstrom of bullets on a pair of soldiers behind us.

And then we heard the explosions go off.

The ceiling shuddered with the vibrations, the sound of a section of the base collapsing reverberating through the base. We were now desperately scrambling through the halls, reduced to maybe half our original number after the MG

Another explosion went off; this time in a room adjacent to us. The force threw us all forward, slamming us into the floor and wall as the remnants of bricks and shrapnel flew everywhere. The adrenaline was running high, though, and we all managed to quickly get up.

And then we noticed that we were no longer with the group. My group now consisted of me, Niko, Wolfram, and Reuben. The hallway had been bisected, Annette and the back of the group possibly buried.

Panicked, my legs moved on their own over to the rubble. I desperately started clawing at the debris, trying in vain to move the remains. I panted with the effort, the dust-filled air flowing into my lungs. I had to stop for a moment to cough, nearly retching my insides up.

“We’re okay!” Annette’s voice shouted out, muffled, “We’re just blocked in.”

I felt my knees go weak with relief.

One of the other partisans shouted, “Keep going to the garage! We’ll find another way out.”

I stood in front of the debris, utterly torn. There was no guarantee Annette or any of the other partisans would survive now.

Niko’s hand on my shoulder did little to drag my attention from the remnants of the wall.

“Konrad. We need to keep moving. They’ll find their way out,” Niko’s hand tightened.

Wolfram gave an assured nod, “The proletariat always finds a way.”

“What the commie said,” Reuben groaned as he staggered to his feet, moving to pick up his shotgun. Apparently he was in too much pain to be fearful.

Even despite their reassurances, my eyes wandered back to the wall.

“So snap out of it,” Niko shoved my FG-42 into my chest, my arms automatically coming up to grasp it, “And focus on getting out of here alive.”

I could only choke down what feelings I had and try to survive.

I inhaled for a moment, nearly coughing up dust again, and then nodded.

“Good,” Niko grunted, “We all keep moving for the garage!”

We all began sprinting to our objective, with Niko taking the lead. On the way, we encountered several partisan bodies alongside German ones but we never stopped. The only two things on my mind were survival and Annette, and I was actively trying to suppress the latter.

We were probably only running for less than a minute, but akin to our preparation, the utter stress we were under during that time made it feel like it was stretched out over the course of several hours. It felt like heaven when we finally managed to find the garage. It’d been hidden behind a bookcase; a recurring method, apparently.

Of course, the small moment of joy was cut short when a gunshot rang out and Reuben crumpled to the ground.

It felt almost like a hellish replay of what happened with Maxime. The following moments, I barely processed apart from the big strokes.

Either Niko or Wolfram dropped the German soldier that had fired. Niko and I quickly shrugged the rucksack off Reuben’s body, with Wolfram taking the haul as we carried his body up the stairs.

I only exited my half-comatose state when we got to the garage. There were several trucks, obviously taken from the civilian population. Worryingly, no other partisans.

“Wolfram! Open the back!” Niko commanded, with the man quickly obeying. We quickly placed Reuben’s body in the backseat, Niko clambering in behind him.

I heard soldiers shouting down the stairs. One nearly got up before I fired a round through his chest.

“Both of you! Get inside! Let’s go!” Niko shouted from the backseat. Before I could do anything, Wolfram hopped into the passenger seat.

Shit. Guess I was driving.

I ran around, all but throwing myself in the driver’s seat. I remembered that keys were a thing, but quickly realized I had sat on them. I turned on the ignition, praying to God that I’d seen my father do it enough times that I wouldn’t fuck it up.

Wolfram stuck his head out the window with his STEN, presumably firing on Germans going up the stairs. I felt a grin plaster itself on my face in triumph despite myself as the engine roared to life.

“Go through the garage door! It opens into a backstreet, so turn right and go fast before slowing down for the main streets!”

I grunted, “Wolfram, get your head inside!”

The man gave me a nod before sitting down and strapping in.

I flexed my hands on the wheel before slamming my foot into the pedal and crashing through the wooden garage front, sending the splinters of the door all over the alley. I skidded to the right, the truck careening down the backstreet. To my credit, I managed to keep the truck on the road itself and not on the sidewalk.

“Reuben’s alive!” Niko shouted from the back, “He was shot in the side! I don’t think the bullet hit anything serious! He passed out from fear!”

“Oh thank fucking God,” I breathed.

Wolfram perked up in his seat, “You can pass out from fear?”

“I can’t drive so we’re about to see!” I replied as the end of the backstreet began growing closer.

“You can’t drive?!” the socialist gave me a panicked glance.

I grit my teeth as I slowed down, preparing to enter onto the main street, “I’m 17! What the fuck do you expect?”

Before Wolfram could open his mouth again, I slammed my foot into the gas again before quickly slamming the brakes to try to slide into traffic without slamming into the back of the car in front of me. The whole movement was jarring, like a film reel put on too slow.

Despite the stunt being incredibly uncomfortable—almost painful, really—it worked.

“How much pressure you put on the gas pedal is how fast you go. Keep it light,” Niko grunted, rummaging through the rucksack Reuben had packed, presumably for the first aid he had put in there.

I tried to heed his advice, keeping the pressure light. It was tough, with my muscles tensed and still rearing for release due to the previous fighting, but I somehow managed to limit my jerky movements.

I managed to keep a somewhat inconspicuous status in the Parisian traffic. It wasn’t nearly as nightmarish as the books back homed claimed it to be. Maybe less people could afford cars?

My mind went back to Annette as I hear the distant explosions of the partisan base. I shook my head, trying to ignore it for now.

I managed to make decent time without seeming suspicious, though that all came to a grinding halt when a checkpoint came up.

I slowed down before, it slowly panicking, “There’s a checkpoint up ahead? What the fuck do we do?”

“Keep calm. I’ll go down to the floor with Reuben so we can’t be seen; you pretend like you’re an Aryan German who can’t find his ID card. Wolfram, crawl under the glovebox and stay out of sight. You have the size to pull it off,” Niko’s steady voice stated.

The man grumbled before unbuckling and slowly sliding below the compartment. Oddly enough, Niko had been right; Wolfram was scrawny enough to be decently concealed by it if you weren’t looking for him.

I grit my teeth before I pulled up, tapping into my soldier days as I lowered my window for the German.

“Good afternoon,” the soldier greeted.

I nodded, facing him with my hands still on the wheel as I made sure to stress my Bavarian accent, “Good afternoon to you too.”

“Always good to see another German; especially one so Aryan,” the man politely smiled, “Identification please.”

“And always good to see another soldier of the Reich,” I gave a grin, hoping the soldier couldn’t see through the very shaky façade. I then made a show of looking around for the papers. After a minute I gave my best irritated huff I could manage, “I can’t find it.”

“You can’t find any sort of ID?” the soldier prompted.

I shook my head, “No.”

A second passed before I decided to go all in, leaning out the window, “Listen, I’m on leave right now. My wife is nearly coming to term with my son. I really can’t afford any hold ups.”

The man gave a confused glance, “Why not use the trains instead of a car, then?”

“Because it takes too long to change gauges! It’s nearly a day and a half for that alone! A car is much quicker!” it was a bluff for the most part, but he seemed to buy it.

He grimaced, “Very well. I’ll let this slide only because you’re doing your patriotic duty to the fatherland. Heil Hitler.”

I grinned, “Thank you. Heil Hitler.”

With that, I pressed the pedal and moved forward.

I had to restrain myself from cheering at how smoothly I handled it. Wolfram clambered back up into the passenger seat, a wild grin on his face, “We made it.”

“Thank the fucking Lord,” Niko groaned as he pulled an unconscious Reuben back into the seat.

We all stayed silent for a moment as I drove through the Parisian traffic, with Wolfram and I grinning like idiots at the road ahead of us and Niko simply trying to calm himself.

After we all managed to get a handle on ourselves, I suddenly remembered a rather important issue.

“Uh… where are we going to go?” I asked, slowly turning the car onto another road. For now, I was mostly just wandering while trying to put some distance between us and the partisan base.

“Anywhere but here,” Niko grunted.

“But where is here?” I asked, “The neighborhood? The arrondissement?”

“The city,” the man replied, “We need to get out of Paris. The whole city will be on lockdown, for sure.”

I glanced at Niko in surprise before I remembered to keep my eyes on the road, “Leave the city?”

“Head for the city borders. We’re leaving. Just for a bit. Until everything calms down,” Niko breathed.

“But where’ll we go? The countryside? We don’t have any partisan bases there… I don’t think.”

“I might have a solution!” Wolfram announced, “Remember how I said I left for Paris from Germany?”

“Uh… yeah?” I quirked an eyebrow.

“What about it?” Niko asked.

Wolfram’s face split into another grin, “On my way here, German authorities got on my tail for a bit in the occupied Lowlands. I ran for a few days, over the border and into France, where I managed to lose them by hiding out in the farmhouse of a sympathetic family.”

“So you want us to go back to the farmhouse and ask if they’ll have us?” I guessed, turning the steering wheel to the right as I moved the car onto another street.

“Exactly.”

“And what makes you think they’ll accept?” Niko poised from the backseat.

Wolfram glanced back at him, “If you have any better ideas, by all means, let us hear them.”

Niko didn’t respond.

“I thought as much,” Wolfram crossed his arms, “And on top of that, their daughter seemed to form some sort of crush on me.”

I had to lock my arms into position to not veer the truck into a building in surprise, “What!?”

“I find it hard to believe anyone actually liked you enough to harbor a crush,” Niko deadpanned from the back.

“I know!” Wolfram nodded, “I’m an intellectual; a defender of the proletariat against the Bourgeoisie! I have no time for romance.”

Niko facepalmed, “…that’s not what I meant.”

The revolutionary paid him no mind, “And I told her that but she didn’t seem to care! Rather odd she wasn’t married yet, though. She was about 19 when they hid me.”

I didn’t bother commenting on that last part, “So we go to them, and chances are they’ll shelter us since their daughter had a crush on you?”

Wolfram nodded, “That’s the plan. The romance aspect isn’t crucial, though. As I said, they were sympathetic, so they probably won’t turn us down.”

I glanced back at Niko in the rearview mirror, “What’s your call?”

He seemed to think for a moment before sighing, “We’ll go with Wolfram’s suggestion, unless either of you are up for being homeless.”

No response.

“I assumed so.”