XXXIV – GETTING TO KNOW EACH OTHER


Garrison Barracks 8th Tankovaya Divisa, Shitomir, USSR, September 15th, 1939, 8.06 hours

“Gospoda Politruka, I am a bit surprised about this development.”
“You should be delighted, Gospoda Capitan. We will liberate the poor people of Poland from the yoke of filthy capitalism.”
“Sure, I am very eager to do this. But we had hardly any time for preparation.”
“Do you tell me our company is not ready?”
“Ahh, no, we are ready as we should be. The armored cars are all operational, except car 7, which, you will recall, lacks some spareparts and...”
“I leave these technical matters to you, Gospoda Capitan.”
Ploitruka Tatjana Beresovka was clearly impatient with her officer. A wise woman didnt mess with a politruka, especially not with one like the Beresovka, who had personally shot the Capitans predecessress. So, the Company Commandress stopped her explanations and smiled politely, eagerly.
Thats prudent of you, bourgoise bitch, Tatjana thought. Anyway, the day would come where this darkhaired beast would receive a bullett too, or at least a tight gag und tormenting ropes about her body. Tatjana prefered to change her unit leaders once in a while, and all were guilty of treason or incompetence anyway.
She opened her cigarette pack, naturally, imported US-Marlboros, guarding state and party had its privileges, and lit up without offering her officer a stick. She smelled the other womans fear. Good.
Better things lay right ahead. So many priestresses of the false godess, so many shopowners, teachresses and the like to either make into helpless packages destined for Siberia or to shoot right away – wonderful the future before the Beresovka.
“According to my orders, the liberation of Eastern Poland will beginn the day after tomorrow. I trust you to get everything right. Including the backmost tires of car 7.”
The company commandress gulped in surprise. From time to time, Tatjana liked to show the lazy sl*ts that she knew all too well what was going on in company, including the technical details.
The politruka busied herself with her smoke. The weather was still fine, a warm and pleasant September this was. Very well for the unit. Their division, of which the Recon company was part of, would be in Lwow in record time. And hopefully before the german fascists.
Tatjana looked forward to meeting those. A stroke of genia by Gospoda Stalina, the treaty with the fascists, but only of a tactical nature. The day would come when the fascists would be crushed.
The Beresovka really looked forward to that, oh yes.


On a road near Velamir, southeast of Lwow, Southeastern Poland, September 21st, 1939, 14.32 hours

“It doesnt matter if the Commies or the Superfrauen get us, we will be f*cked either way. I dont think they will honor our american passports very much.”
“Sweet Maria, your negative european attitude starts to annoy me. Think positive, will you. The Romanian border is near, we can make it in no time. The fuel we got yesterday will take us there and...”
“Do you think the sl*ts tanks creep toward us like this column here on the road?”
Maria gestured angrily ahead. As far as one could see, the dusty road was cluttered with horsecarts and people, heavily ladden, all fleeing the approaching enemies, all hoping to reach the border to neutral Romania.
To the left, a few miles ahead, the tower of a temple raised itself above the flat surroundings, indicating another small village. Velamir – Amy had looked it up on the map she bought for unbelievable 6 Dollars back in Lwow.
Amy knew why her friend was so bad tempered. The Cipoletti had no cigarettes left and was lusting for a smoke. On the other hand, a nice chocolate bar or two would be in order too, Amy thought and sighed.
The Delta drove the old Ford truck, Maria sitting beside her, while Valery was in the open back with the family, women, males and children, twelve people in all plus their dog, a small, rugged animal with never failing charme.
It had taken Amy more than a week to get the automobile ready for departure. Fuel had been there enough for starters, and finally, while rumors had it the Germans were already besieging Warzaw, the old rusty truck, Amy behind the wheel, had left Rekowicze southeastwards.
At first, they rumbled along without difficulty, the old Ford eating mile after mile, and the Deltas had felt hope rising within them. The family was adamant in their trust. The american wondergirls would rescue them, everyhing would be okay. Amy had made a driving vehicle out of rusty spareparts, she was a magician, all three ladies were ladyknights out of an old story, ready to slay dragons with their bare hands or laserbeams out of their eyes.
So far, so good. Then the problems started.
A polish officress had lusted for the truck to get her wine cellar and her piano away to Romania, and only a nightly retreat had saved them the Ford.
Then, other refugees started to litter the roads, a few at first, but shortly, the dripping raised up to a mighty river, cluttering every way, reducing the Fords speed to that of a walking woman.
Finally, word spread under the refugees that the Sovietas were coming from the East, stabbing an already halfdead Poland in the back.
This resulted in even more refugees. Yesterday, german Stukas, coming from Slovakia, the germans puppet state, in the south, had started to straf the columns.
The Deltas and their clients hadnt witnessed a direct attack yet, but all had seen the carnage whrought by attacks as they passed such sights.
At such moments, Amys eyes darkened and she rubbed her scar without noticing it herself.
“In this speed we will never make it.”
“You repeat yourself, Maria. Cant you just shut up for a while. Gagging you might be an option.”
“Very funny, Lady sergeant.”
Naturally, Maria was still very touchy on the subject, the circumstances with the Superfrauen approaching reminding her of her adventure with the Skorzeny and her long stay in a hidden german camp.
Both ladies felt silent, sending angry glances to each other once in a while.
Amy heard it first, and to her own embarressment, her hands started to shake at the wheel and icy fear gripped her stomach.
“Whats that?” Maria called out alarmed and looked into the sky.
“Stukas.” Amy brought out, fighting her feelings, gripping the wheels with her knuckles whitening.
She finally reacted, guiding the truck to the right side of the road, stopping it.
“Lets get out, quick!”
She opened the door, jumped outside and called out to Valery and the family:
“Away from the road, hurry, hurry, damn it.”
People cried out, panic raised its head above the endless column.
Maria followed Amy out of the cabin and climbed into the trucks back, helping Valery and others getting the children and old ones safely to the ground. Amy took two children, stuffed them literally under her arms and brought them into the potato field beside the road.
The sirens sent sharp fear into every one.
Maria looked up. There they were, four birds of prey, a dark green their color, clearly visible the black crosses on the wings. They came down in a dive, their sirens screaming.
You dirty sl*ts, Maria thought coldly, opposite to everyone else filled with an icy calm, followed by a deep rage.
Everyone of the family had now left the truck, seeking shelter between the potato plants. Only Maria still stood on the truck, looking up.
You will pay for everything. The day will come. Maria finally jumped down into the dust and ran towards the others.
The first bomb went off a hundred meters to the right, in another field. Then the others hit, people and horses screaming. Then the Germans started the strafing, came back, strafed the column again.
Maria had never heard horses scream before. She would never forget it. Then, a loud booom, and there their truck went, the gasoline tank hit, flammes and smoke raising from the strafed Ford, which was now even more dead than at start.
It ended as abruptly as it had begun. The Stukas were gone, leaving behind smoke, screaming horses, crying people, dead and wounded.
Maria found Amy in the field. The Delta was white as snow, only her scar at the forehead a shiny purple.
“The truck is gone.”
Amy just nodded. Valery gathered the family, looking after everyone.
“We must help the wounded. Bury the dead. Maybe theres a doctor over there in the village.”
Maria, still feeling this rage, spoke without any emotion in her voice.
Amy straightened up, took charge again.
All we can do now is wait for the sl*ts to collect us, Maria thought darkly.


Northwest of Velamir, southeast of Lwow, Southeastern Poland, September 21st, 1939, 16.09 hours

All quiet in the small village ahead. Resistance in this region was barely existent, it had been four days since the GUDRUNS had been shot at.
Refugees on the road nearby, a disgusting column of filthy, dirty polish bitches with their males and ratpacks of children. They wont get away from german might, Frauke Seeler knew.
She trained her binoculars on the village again. Some people visible around the temple of the so called mothergodess. How she had hated the praying, the endless speeches of the priestresses, the mumbo-jumbo about mother earth, love to nature and all things living. Nonsense everything. How fitting that the movement revived the germanic goddesses of old. Frauke held a grade in the priesthood of the goddess of revenge and death, in order to avenge with weapon in hand the shame and crime of the Versailles treaty imposed upon the Reich in her mothers time.
She remembered her grandma crying back then, crying out of shame. For a moment she considered ordering the platoon to enter the village shooting and killing everyone inside.
Then she calmed down again, putting down the binoculars, reached for her LADY EXTRA cigarettes.
From Number Two, Feldwebel Frings came over, looking up to her platoonleader in the GUDRUNS turret.
Frauke lit her smoke, inhaled deeply and sent a crisp nod down to Frings.
The Brunette saluted.
“Frau Leutnant, new orders from division.”
“Lets hear them, Feldwebel, quick.”
Eagerness washed Fraukes dark mood away.
“The soviet recon is near us, only a few miles ahead. Division is in contact by radio with Soviet HQ. We are ordered to enter the village and await the Bolschewikas.”
“Very well, Feldwebel. Gather the Maids and lets get going. Dismissed.”
Frauke watched the Brunettes well shaped bottom as Frings hurried to alert the resting platoon. Too bad sexual contact with her soldieresses was forbidden. Frings was such a juicy maid.
Anyway, a new mission ahead. While the GUDRUNS crews entered their armoured cars  again, engines roared again and the four vehicles left the small wood, Frauke Seeler thought about the coming meeting with the russian ladies.
Well, ladies was surely not the correct term. Soviet Russia was hell on earth, the Bolschewikas the biggest enemy of the Reich, the Fuehras treaty with them nonwithstanding. But how interesting, meeting in friendship with the scum, treating pleasantries, having a smoke together, knowing the day would come, when these bitches would be killed in battle or put to hard slave labour for the Reichs best.
The GUDRUNS raced towards the small village. They had been seen, and panic broke out. Frauke smiled delighted. Like an ant hill in which you put a stick. Insects, mere bugs, thats what these Poles were.
She took a last drag from her cigarette and tossed the butt away.
The Reich had come, may the rest of the world tremble. This was only a dirty village, but you had to start somewhere. Frauke was sure, she would see the same again in Paris and Moscow someday.



Velamir, Southeastern Poland,  September 21st, 1939, 17.24 hours

So, the fascistas were already there. Their four armoured cars, painted brown and green, dusty and scarred from three weeks fighting looked annoyingly modern and dangerous. The crews stood about, some with weapons, some without. Confident they appeared, victorious, most were looking rather attractive. Not all were blonde, about half of them had brown or red hair, and not all wore their manes in plaits, as Tatjana had somehow expected. Some had even rather short, sporting hairstyles.
And their uniforms were looking far too good, accentuating their shapely, curvacuous bodies, their black kneehigh boots looking even rather sexy.
Tatjana didnt like that. The Russian uniforms were of a greengray color and hung on the gospodas like sacks draped about them. Her unit looked like ugly pigs compared to slender cats. She snorted. At least she herself looked after her appearance.
To her astonishment, there were even three or four brownskinned, blackhaired women among the twenty or so Germans. They definitly didnt look like germanic superfrauen. Then she remembered lessons in history from party school.
In the second half of the 19th century, in the osman empire, the High Ridress had, in the name of the religion of  Fevkalade Anne (Wonderful Mother in turkish), supressed the mothergodess worshippresses, even outright have them murdered. The german chancelloress of the time, the famous Ottilie von Bismarck, had opened the german borders to hundreds of thousands of turkish and syrian refugees of the Mother Earth faith. Tatjana had learned that the german capitalistas had thereby gained very cheap docile labor for their expanding factories. The Turkas remained second class citizens, even worse of than the german workresses and peasants.
The Hitler had changed all that. In a masterstroke which had been purely tactical, but nonetheless very efficient, she had in 1935 declared all Turkas and other southern immigrants german maidens, with full rights and honors. Casting away racial theories some fascistas in Germany were fond of, the Hitler bitch had gained nearly three million new eager followers, working in the factories, marching in her armies, ready to show all “real” Germans, that they were Superfrauen and trustworthy too.
The BA-10s, 7 in all from 14 they had started with at the border, the others all broken down, rolled into the village, approached the market place. The Germans waited, cool, confident, arrogant, many were smoking, expensive, high quality sticks with blonde filters, not the cheap stuff the Sovietas, except Tatjana herself, had to do with.
The Kapitana looked to Tatjana, and the redhead nodded. On a handsign from the military leadress, the company ground to a halt. One of the cars didnt stop fast enough, crushed, albeit at slow speed, in another one. The sound of scrapping metal was like a dagger of shame and embarassment to Tatjana. The damned german bitches even dared to laugh at the accident.
The crew of the car, Number 11, would pay for this.
So, Politruka Tatjana Beresovka was in a very fool mood as she climbed down and marched towards the officress of the Fascistas. A blonde sl*t, very attractive, very arrogant, she at last had her mane in a plait and her eyes were blue. A mere luitenant she was, carrying herself like General Guderian in person.
Tatjana put a false wide smile on her face and gathered her school german.
“Greetings to our comrads in arms, Frau Leutnant.”
“Oh, you speak German, very well.”
It sounded like “you are capable of speach at all, you monkey” to Tatjana.
The Germans smile was just as false. Nonetheless, both shook gloved hands. The Blonde produced a cigarette pack, but Tatjana was faster, offering her Marlboros.
“Thank you, Frau Politkommissarin.”
The German lit first Tatjanas, then her own smoke.
“This is a most historic moment, Frau Politkommissarin, we both meeting in friendship. May the rotten democracies tremble in fear on hearing the news.”
“They surely will, Frau Leutnant. Well, how should we proceed? Who takes control of town?”
“According to my orders, the zone around Lemberg is yours, so we will retreat northwest after a nights rest.”
“Fine. So would you mind if I start securing the village?”
“Feel free to do so. There is not much to secure here, a dirty nest of scum, if you ask me.”
“Sure, but full of rats and bugs who need be taken care of.”
To Tatjanas further rage, the german girls simply approached the soviet BA-10s, offering cigarettes and coffee to the russian maidens, who were afraid of the politruka, but grabbed the capitalist bait greedily nonetheless.
The blonde German didnt seem to care. How could she let her unit be so – free? Tatjana suddenly realised a very bad thing. The German bitch trusted her girls and they trusted her. They were a team, not a gang of prisoners under Tatjanas cruel grip.
Hatred rose in the Beresovka on the Germans, on this blonde here, combined with another feeling, as she irritatingly continued to find the German sexually very attractive.
“I have studied reports about your weapon system. So this is the GUDRUN. Is it reliable?”
“All four are running for three weeks now, never a breakdown, one even took a hit from an AT-gun. Its still operational, though we had two wounded.”
So the german unit was even bloodied, probably in action from East Prussia in the north through the f*cking whole of Poland in only three weeks. Dangerous they were, the Germanskas, Tatjana realised more and more.
The Soviet unit had passed through about 150 miles of Poland, not firing a single shot in combat, and had lost half of its vehicles to technical malfunctions and breakdowns.
“Your unit seems a bit understrength for a company. Heavy fighting in your path?”
Tatjana saw in these blue eyes the amusement. Oh, to get her hands in a cellar of NKVD on the bitch – no, stay calm, the day will come. You are representing the party and the state.
“No, breakdowns I am afraid. The BA-10 is not as modern and well designed as your vehicles. The Soviet Union had to start from scrap after the czaras, and we still have a long way to go.”
“I see. Well, would you like to inspect a GUDRUN? You are welcome. Lets have a look.”
“That is most kind of you, Frau Leutnant.”
She might as well learn as much as she could. Some day it might become important, she thought, a cruel smile, this one straight coming from her heart, appearing on her face.

Doctor Szipanskis house, Velamir, the same time

The three Deltas and mother Komorski were sitting around the table drinking tea, served by the doctors son, a shy, 16year old male, as the door suddenly opened.
There had been no warning, the Germans and the newly arrived Russians gathered at the market place, and what sense would a sentry have made?
But here they were, three heavily armed Germans, in there modern camouflage uniform, barrets on their hair, dustcovered their high black boots. They looked competent regarding the use of their submachine guns.
Maria started to rise, but Amy put a hand on the Cipolettis arm, pressing hard. They dont look as evil as I had thought, Amy had to admit. She didnt now the rankings, but the markings of the first Superfrau looked like those of a sergeant.
A pretty girl in her midtwenties, brown, rather short hair, cut at earlength, cute freckles, brown lively eyes. A nice girl to have a drink with at the Crooked Dragon back in Atlanta.
The others were blond and, how weird, brownskinned and blackhaired, with a clearly semitic nose.
The sergeant scanned the room, lowered her weapon. The two others not. The frackled German eyed the three Deltas, their clothes, hairstyle and demeanor.
“Where is doctor?”
Polish the words.
“Not here, over there, with the wounded of an air attack.”
It was Valery who answered in polish.
“Who are you? You are not polish.”
“We are American tourists.”
“Tourists? Here?”
The German laughed, showing a cute smile. To cute for Amys taste. She wanted to hate this german bitch.
The last words had been in english, which mastery on the Germans part was clearly much better than the polish equivalent.
“Would you be so kind as to show me your passports?”
Amy slowly rose, produced the document from her jeanspocket and collected Valerys and Marias passports too.
The frackled Brunette studied them for a while, sowly shaking her head.
She said something in German to her girls. One, the blonde, saluted and left immediately.
Maria, whose German was quite good due to her imprisonment there, growled angrily, but said nothing.
“I guess, my leftenant will want to speak with you, ladies. Just out of curiosity, what are you doing here in the polish countryside in the middle of a war?”
“We are tourists, surprised by the war. May I have our passports back?”
“Not yet, Lady, ah, Wilder. Like the authress of modern dramas? Thora Wilder? I liked OUR LITTLE CITY very much.”
“Arrh...”
Valery helped Amy out.
“Yes, I saw it in New York. How come you know it?”
“I studied anglistic literature at Heidelberg university before joining the Wehrmacht. I havent seen the play, but studied the written form. When the war is over, I hope to visit America for a semester or two.”
You should have stayed at your university instead of killing innocent Poles, cutie, Amy thought, eyeing their passports in the Germans gloved hand.
Valery chatted friendly with the German about literature and theater, obviously the Delta had a faible for this too. Amy understood that her friend tried to build a bridge to the Superfrau, to get away unharmed.
Get away? What would come next? Would the Germans just let them go, including the Komorski family? Or would they imprison them as spies, thinking them from british secret service or US CIA? What would become of the Komorskis?
Time passed, the turkish looking girl produced Marlboros, put one between her lips, had long ago lowered her submachinegun, noticed Marias still angry, but nonetheless longing look and astonished the Americans by simply approaching the table and offering her cigarettes.
Maria shrank back a bit, clearly fighting her greed, but Valery immediately took a stick, nodding to Maria, who now took one too. Mother Komorski and Amy shook their heads. In a nearly intimate gesture, much like the Deltas at work, the turko-german girl offered her sergeant a Marlboro too.
Shortly later, the young male in a corner was coughing, as four cigarettes were burning. Amy noticed Marias anger, as much on the Germans as on herself for succumbing to her vice.
At least the atmosphere was clearly relaxed now.
Then everything changed, as a blonde, arrogant luitenant and a grim looking redhead in russian uniform entered.
The two Germans saluted, still very relaxed, now watching the Russian curiously.
The redhead as well as the tall blonde starred darkly, menacingly at the Americans.
Three more german soldiers entered behind the two, the blonde from the start and two others.
The room was suddenly quite crowded with people. And with something else.
The Russian said in very bad English:
“What to do with these plutocratic spies?”
“An interrogation is in order, I think.” The blonde said with a cruel, crisp smile, her eyes beaming.
“How do we do it?”
“First, we secure the spies.”
The German turned to one of her underlings.
“Bring ropes and the like from the GUDRUNS.”
“Jawoll, Frau Leutnant.”
Amy and the others changed a look.
“What about the male?”
“We will start with the drone, to show we mean business.”



The doctors house, a few minutes later

Maria now stood with the others around the table, the Komorski mother held the shivering boy in her arms, the Deltas starring at the two bitches, the German and the Soviet, enjoying themselves in the rooms center.
The other Germans had their weapons ready, but clearly expected no problems with the tourists. The sergeant didnt look happy, but clearly didnt know what to do against her officresses will.
The last German entered again, carrying coils of rope and some scarfs in camouflage color.
The blonde Superfrau had returned to German, offering the Russian a cigarette of german origin, chatting amiably.
“I especially like applying the gags. They must be big, you can see it when their eyes bulge. I will show it to you.”
The redhead nodded, clearly amused.
The Cipoletti traded innocent looks with Valery and Amy. Amy nodded slightly. Now or never again. As the darkhaired German with the ponytail put the ropes and scarfs on the table, partially blocking the others line of fire, and both the tall blonde and the Russian bowed slightly to a matchs flame to light their smokes, the Deltas did it.
Amys fist sent the ponytail backwards into two other Germans, Valery grabbed the turkish maid and threw her with expert skill over her bent shoulder, landing the surprised girl with force on the table. Maria was beside the leadresses in a moment, karate kicks let them tumble back, followed by strikes into their stomachs. Already on their knees, mouths gaping in pain and shock, both received final blows in their necks, taking them out for good.
Amy had swiftly followed her foe to the two stumbling others, using her boxing skills to great effect, knocking out both other Germans.
Meanwhile, Valery had left alone the turko-german girl, who gulped and gagged on the table, clearly out of action, to attack the sergeant.
The frackled brunette alone had time to react to the Deltas outburst. She raised her submachinegun in a mere reflex, but hesitated. Even before Valery reached her, she lowered her weapon, didnt oppose Valerys fist meeting with her head. She went down without resistance.
Valery finished the girl on the table, while Amy looked out the door, if someone bad had noticed the action. Maria eyed the unconscious form of the brunette sergeant shortly. Their might be hope for this one. Maria was sure the German had refrained from shooting with purpose.
Be it, as it may, there was work to do. Maria didnt take the japanese mistress bondage lessons for fun, and finally she could put her abilities to a real test.
Smiling darkly, she grabbed the first coil of rope from the table.


The doctors house, a while later

Frauke Seeler awoke slowly, pain in the stomach and neck, feeling the rough wooden ground beneath her. Someone raised her upper body from the ground. She groaned and opened her eyes. Her vision getting clearer, her senses awakening, she realised she was only wearing her lingeries, her body trussed up with rope like a turkey. The small italian looking stranger was holding her, looking coldly at her.
“Are you awake, Lady Superfrau? Good. Open wide.”
The bitch did something at her back, and suddenly all ropes presssed hard into her arms and body. Frauke gasped surprised, opening her mouth. A folded scarf was stuffed into her oral orifice, fingers pressed it deeply home. She gagged, her eyes bulged.
“You said the victims eyes must bulge, no? How does it feel on the receiving end, Miss Superfrau?”
Quickly, another scarf was fastened between her teeth, tied of at her neck, secured the big packing, followed by a third scarf to cover and complete the gag. Already Frauke wriggled and screamed in the big gag.
Finished, the American rose, opening up the view to the room. The Seeler now saw her maidens, Feldwebel Frings as well as the four privates, leaning against the wall, all bound tightly with ropes, all gagged like herself. Some were still unsconcious, others mewed into their gags and wriggled.
The big darkhaired bitch with the red scar dragged another female package beside Frauke. The russian politruka was as wideeyed as the German luitenant, she too uselessly sreaming in the gag, tearing at the ropes to no effect.
The small darkhaired one approached them again.
“Lets tie them back to back.”
This was done with both helpless women, until both leaned back to back against each other, ropes wound additionally about both ladies bodies.
The small one kneeled at their sides, gripping their gagged faces with one hand each, forcing them to face her.
“The german superfrau and the commie lady. A nice double package you are. It was surely fun to attack the innocent Poles together, killing them, supressing them. But you had hardly time to become real friends. Now you will have ample time. Try using it well, getting to know each other.”
This damned bitch! The three women were real spies, and they had dispatched of their foes most easily. But revenge was sweet, and when she got free, she would...
Then she realized how the episode would look in her papers. If she could reverse the matter, if she could free herself...
She tested the ropes. By the goddess of revenge and death, how should she ever get free? Behind her, the Russian struggled mightily as well.
This gag was unbearable. She wanted it gone immediately, so thight, so big, so cruel. She let out another muffled scream, matched by the redheads one.
The Americans and their polish friends left the house, leaving behind some struggling ladies.


The market place, Velamir, shortly later

Amy and Maria approached the dangerous and deadly looking vehicle slowly, but with purpose. They wore the german luitenants and the sergeants uniform, both, the one tall, the other small, fitting quite well, even the boots.
The mass of the Germans was resting on the stairs of the temple to the left, clearly very at ease. Only two sentries stood near the four parked armored vehicles.
The Russians were on the other side of the open area, gathered around an open fire, waiting for some food after the demanding duty of robbing and killing an innocent people. There were much more of them than Germans, and while the Germans, their weapons, uniforms, their demeanor, looked state of the art, eager, fit, dangerous, the Sovietas looked like a bunch of children playing soldiers, children with dirty, broken toys. Amy snorted as she eyed the russian vehicles.
When the Stalina and the Hitler get to fighting it out, the Russians will get a very bloody nose, the Delta thought.
The Germans were a close knit, relatively small team. Naturally, they knew each other, so a closer look would do the two disguised Deltas no good. But in the first seconds – and these could mean success or failure.
They reached the vehicle unopposed. One of the sentries, a blonde with glasses, turned her head toward them. They retreated towards the armored cars other side, Amy gesturing determined towards the two Germans.
She sent a prayer to no goddess in particlar, and damn it, the trick worked. Instead of being alarmed, both sentries strolled over. As they reached the vehicles other side, now out of view of the other Superfrauen, if not the Russians, it was too late. Amys fist and Marias karate thrust send both Germans down. Maria shook her head and raised a finger to Amy, gesturing with her other hand at the blonde sentries broken glasses.
“How could you, Frau Leutnant.”
“I couldnt stand the thought of a superfrau with glasses, you see?”
Both grinned.
The plan was to bord a german vehicle and drive off with all speed, collecting Valery and the family near the Doctors house and leave the village off road thanks to the german monsters abilities. But as they climbed into the wheeled tank and Amy studied the instruments, Maria suddenly eyed her sharply and patted her on the shoulder.
Pointing at the 20mm gun controls, she said, her voice flat:
“Could you master this baby too?”
“Sure, no problem. Ahh, Maria, all anger towards the german bitches is not enough to bring me as far that I would mow down them all there on the stairs.”
“No one is talking about that. What do you think, what will the Russians do if weird things happen here with their german friends?”
“What are you thinking, Maria? You have a plan okay. Will you enlighten me?”
This the Cipoletti did.
When she finished, Amy said nothing for a while, then:
“You are totally mad. I like it. Lets do it.”

The stairs, the temple, Velamir, not very much later

It were exactly a dozen German maidens resting on the stairs, eating rations, drinking water and coffee, smoking, reading magazines and newspapers, one writing a letter to her mothers back in the Reich, two playing chess on a small board, a pair even quite intimate, stroking each others hair, kissing and hugging. Between the same ranks, this was not only allowed, but even encouraged in the Wehrmacht, the regimes target to let all german sisters worshipp the goddess of pleasure and lust as often as possible.
Some made jokes about the Russians over there, their oldfashioned, rugged vehicles, their ridiculously ugly uniforms, their cruel to look at hairstyles.
The campaign against Poland was won, no real danger ahead, soon they would be at home again for a well earned rest, before they would turn west and show the French and British the Wehrmachts power. Medals would be awarded at home, very useful tools in the dance and pleasure temples of their hometowns to get a cute civilian lady for a hot night.
Victors the young german ladies were, feeling like Superfrauen in earnest.
They werent alarmed, as the sentries didnt show up again, as the engine of Number two started, some heads turned in astonishment, as the GUDRUN rolled toward them. But, who was the small darkhaired Feldwebel in the turret? Some rose slowly, others only raised their eyebrows, the two chessplayers turned their heads, slightly annoyed.
The GUDRUN stopped near them, the main gun swivelled quickly in their direction. The strange sergeants accent was clearly not german, though her words were very clear and correct.
“You are our prisoners. Obey or die.”
This got every ones attention. Beeing on the receiving end of a 20mm muzzle can make one a bit nervous. What options had the german damsels? Their weapons were of no use against the GUDRUN, mostly out of reach anyway.
There was no resistance. Stunned they were, disbelieving, like in a strange, bad dream they all shared. The next order let them all rose and head for the corner. Reluctantly they obeyed. The twelve girls left the stairs and rounded the temples corner into a side alley. The GUDRUN rumbled menacingly behind them, the big gun in everyones back the whole time.
Something was thrown to them from the vehicle, a sack full of thick scarfs, underwear, other cloth material.
The next order told them that they wouldnt die now, but could hardly lighten their mood. All had to gag themselves tightly. Eyes bulged, muffled mewing raised among them, as they stuffed their mouths with cloth packs. Twelve gags were then secured and strengthened with scarfs. Gagged, the twelve maidens looked at each other, still totally perplexed by developments.
The following stern order was no surprise. Coils of rope from the GUDRUNS rather big supply were thrown to them, and the first six were ordered to tie up the other six.
A short while later, six of them were bound, their legs still free. Now, it was three for three, than two by one, and finally, the last one, a pretty turko-german gal with chinlength glossy black hair, was serviced by the small stranger coming down from the GUDRUN.
Twelve Superfrauen looked a bit less super now, bound, gagged, helpless. The small enemy guided them into the temple through a small rear entrance, busied herself with tying the twelve gals legs too and at long last tied them in pairs back to back.
Another stranger in german uniform appeared, tall, rather muscled, dragging at their arms behind her the two unscounscious sentries. These were bound, gagged an made to a pair too.
Then both foes left them, they all helpless, muted, impotent, still stunned. To their left, the statue of the mothergodess, MOTHER EARTH looking down on them with love as on every other living being.


The market place, Velamir, some wrigglings and mewings later

“They dont seem to care what happens over here.”
“No, too busy eating their stuff. And probably they think everything what the Germanskas do is weird anyway.”
Marias eyes narrowed as she watched the Russians in the distance.
“No, Maria. Definitly no. There are too many of them, over thirty. We cant pull that off. I am still surprised it worked with the Supergirls. But it was definitly worth it. These looks on their faces...
But back to the Russians, they wont look as good as the pretty, stylish German gals in rope and gag.”
“My mothers said, russian girls are among the prettiest on earth.”
“Maybe, but only after a visit by a hairstylist from New York City. Pretty or not, its enough for today. Before you get the idea of packaging the whole Wehrmacht and Red Army, we better make a tactical retreat now. Think of the Komorski family.”
Maria sighed, playing with a yet unlit Marlboro at her lips. The German gals, especially the turko-german ones, seemed to love the brand, so Marias nicotin problem was solved for quite some time ahead.
“You are right. But you have an idea there. Packaging them all from the Hitler down to the last private. One would need many ropes for that. Well, okay, what about the three other monsters?”
“Wont leave this place until some mechanics with a good supply of spareparts arrive. I would really LOVE blowing them up entirely, but unfortunately, this would finally get the Commies attention, I am afraid.”
“They cant follow us with them, thats enough for now.”
“Yeah.”
Amy started the engine again. The armored car slowly left the place, the Russians didnt seem to care the least.
The rest was easy. They collected Valery and the family, helped everyone into the suddenly crowded vehicle, and off they were, leaving Velamir towards the Romanian border.
Amy started to like the armored monster. Too bad they would have to abandon it at the border. Would be no good idea to roll right up to a checkpoint with it.