When the undead had burst forth from behind the main camp there was a general sense of shock amongst those who were still there. Even the courageous Field Marshal Krueger was taken aback by both the cohesion and speed the undead showed. Almost as though they were pieces on a game board, they moved with a sense of discipline and unity that was beyond the limits of the living. The whole army was marching as one, the rhythmic thumping of boots on the ground completely in unison despite their maneuvers and separation.

Thud, thud, thud, thud.

The marching of the undead was like the ticking of a clock, or the swaying of a metronome. In a way, it was beautiful, even though it was also quite terrifying. This was what a truly well-oiled military machine looked like. When the trappings of flesh were thrown away and all wills were bound to a single force, the end result was less like a military formation and more like a machine. The realization that THIS was what Generals and Field Marshals had longed for, the erasure of individuality and humanity and the rise of a soulless and merciless automata, sent shivers down his spine. He would NOT allow his men to suffer such a fate. They would NOT be inducted into the cold and unfeeling ranks of the automata-like undead.

“Damnit! Where are our reinforcements?!” “We need backup!” “We can’t hold out for much longer against these things!” “God has abandoned us!” “Oh, my God! They killed Kenneth! Those bastards!”

The cries of his men grew more and more chaotic as those who fled from the failed assault on Necrograd trickled in and found themselves in what looked to be an entirely different fight. Things were not looking good for the armies under the command of ‘Lightning Krueger’. The only upside was that although the undead had indeed flanked the main camp and had it in their sights, they were merely milling about in an almost playful manner. Like a cat toying with a mouse, the undead formations would move around as though they were intent on striking a specific place only to stop when the living pulled away by themselves. His men were being slowly coerced into moving in a specific direction, and that direction was AWAY from the city and INTO the Gallows Woods.

As the last survivors managed to make their way to the blob of men and material that was slowly being forced into the madness-inducing forest, Krueger went over the map of the various lanes that had been made through the woods in his head. It was quite possible that they could escape, not that fleeing the field of battle was the Teutonian thing to do, but these were the men that HE cared for, and their lives were more precious to him than the doctrine of ‘No Retreat’.

“Instead of a ‘Retreat’ it is a ‘Tactical Withdrawal’. While that won’t be ideal it will be acceptable.”

And so, the long slog through the woods to reach a logged area began.

…

“What is this madness?”

The Leader, Dietrich Edelweiss, went over a document that had been sent from Field Marshal Krueger. Or rather, soon to be Former Field Marshal Krueger. The letter contained information that no one in the high command wanted to see, which resulted in another two letters being sent. Krueger was requesting reinforcements and further supplies, but that wasn’t what got high command’s knickers in a twist.

The fact remained that Krueger had fled the field of battle and allowed defeat to stain the record of not only himself but all of Teutonia. He was already going to face a court martial for his ‘tactical withdrawal’, but now he was peeving the glorious and wise Leader so much that an example had to be made. Teutonians were the Ubermensch, and therefore could not possibly be defeated or retreat!

Krueger and his men were therefore Race-Traitors and thus were Untermensch, and Untermensch are foolish and stupid fake-humans that know nothing and are ultimately deserving only of erasure! Despite the letters detailing the layout and defenses of Necrograd, these things were ignored and rather than send more siege equipment and troops for the assault something and someone else was being sent to contact Krueger.

A week after the siege had been temporarily broken, Krueger awoke to an unwelcome sight. Field Marshal Arschloch’s forces had arrived and had begun to arrest the survivors of the failed attack. Even Krueger himself was no exception and was quickly striped of any badges and medals before being bound in rope and imprisoned for the crime of ‘Treason’.

Such an accusation was only upon him due to the political maneuvers of his enemies, who had used his failure to finally erase their hated rival. As Krueger listened to the charges being read out, he could not believe that his nation had sunk so low. In the days before the current ‘Puppet Leader’ took power over the murdered body of his father, the Teutonian Knightly Junta had been a place where honor was paramount, even if it was tainted by a bit of racism. How had his nation become so ridiculously corrupt in such a short amount of time? In but a single generation Teutonia not only doubled down on the racism and bigotry but more than quintupled the intensity of those darker sides of man.

“Poor Krueger, if only you weren’t so weak! It truly does shame the Fatherland to have had someone like you in it. Don’t worry, you will not die just yet. You will bear witness to my glorious victory over the Untoten and only then will you and your treasonous men be sent back to the capitol to swing from the hangman’s noose! You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this, how long we all have waited for this!”

Arschloch had the former Field Marshal put in the same set of pens that held the just under one thousand survivors of his five armies. At first there was animosity, but now that the political officers were no more Krueger now had the ability to tell his men why and how they were always getting the short stick. At first there was disbelief, but as the former Field Marshal went on and elaborated the details of his attempts to get them promotions, better wages and benefits his men slowly began to wise up to the truth.

They had been cared for by Krueger in a way that not even the Leader had done. There was a sense of comradery finally forming between them and their former leader. The strange tactics, the constant training and the sit-downs that Krueger had had with those of his armies who were down in the dumps finally made sense. It was all to keep his precious soldiers alive and well, something that no other Field Marshal seemed to want for their men.

“Boys, I’m sorry. If I had taken my time and planned better, we wouldn’t have suffered this fate. You all should be free, I alone should face punishment for this. You were not responsible for this disaster, I was. But at least we have one bit of joy to look forward to.”

“And what is that sir? From where we are sitting there doesn’t look to be a light on the horizon…”

Krueger smiled and gave a slight chuckle.

“This is ‘Asshole Arschloch’ we’re talking about. All he knows how to do is throw bodies at a problem. If WE couldn’t take the city, what hope does HE have? Tactics? Strategy? He has none. He will grind his armies down to nothing and then HE will be sharing the hangman’s necktie with us. And as for our ‘Wise Leader’? Well, losing three Field Marshals and their entire forces will be a crippling blow to his image. As much as I care for our nation, and I really do, Teutonia needs a wake-up call and this whole debacle is just what the doctor ordered. A pity that we will have to perish for it to happen, don’t you agree?”