We Served the Soviet Union - A Protect and Survive Spinoff!

Where are we with this?

I am going to begin work on it again, but to be honest, wasn't nuts about everything EAST of Munich being dead. Kinda hurt the ability to write this thing....but I will just continue and try to make a story out of it...in the meanwhile, I am working on a AU Daria story set in the world of "The Third World War: August 1985" entitled "Night Witches"

It's up on Fanfiction.net and Matt Wiser's been a real help with it!

http://www.fanfiction.net/s/9025740/1/Night-Witches

Give it a read, and yes folks, I am always looking to improve the story/reality of it.
 
But since I don't want you all to feel screwed!

So what was the first day like?

(snorts a derisive laugh) Everything that could go wrong, did. Our jump off time was delayed three times in the space of an hour, the East German engineers damn near blew up one of my tanks while they blew a lane in the [Berlin] Wall and the mines for us to move through...and then there was the enemy...

How so?

As I said earlier, they knew we were coming. Not when, of course, but they knew. And the delays didn't help, of course. They had the lanes we blew in the Wall pre-sighted...and the first BMP through the wall got hit by at least 2 or maybe 3 ATGM, who knew. Damn thing just vaporized. We reacted, of course, opened fire on every place that MIGHT have an ATGM post. But it really didn't matter. The damn NATO bastards had left, and I had three letters to post...

What happened then?

It was your typical experience of fighting in a city with armor. Nasty, brutal and close range. Protection counted for little, and the NATO defenders proved as brave as we were. They showed little hesitation of closing with armored vehicles, and even the West Berlin "police" (some police they were) had well rehearsed ambush plans. I'd lose a platoon of tanks in just about every engagement. When you only have 30 to start with? It gets expensive. Worse, I have the goddamned idiot East Germans demanding to know why I wasn't moving quickly enough to get to the American Kaserne and Brigade demanding to know why I was losing so many tanks. No by the end of the first day? I'd lost a company of tanks, and probably secured six blocks of the damn town.

I am confused, you said you were the Deputy Battalion Commander? Suddenly it was your battalion?

Bah, I am getting old, I did forget that part, didn't I? It seems our esteemed Battalion Commander had believed the KGB and the Political Administration when they said the citizens of West Berlin would greet us as liberators. So, what does the moron do? He has half his body out the hatch like he's in Red Square? A burst of machine gun fire cured him of that problem, and of course, his continued existence within minutes of our entry into West Berlin. And thus, I am now the battalion commander, which was now 22 tanks and a collection of very scared kids, and officers who should have been the best in the Soviet Army, but to tell the truth? They pissed themselves and fell down on the job. I had a company commander refuse to advance under fire. He'd lost two tanks already.

What happened to him?

Arrested by the Commandant's Service before I could say a word. As to his fate after that? Shot summarily. Had to be done. Panic is a contagious rot, Comrade Professor, especially under fire.
 
So how did the fighting progress?

As a whole, badly! The East Germans we were supporting were not regular army for the most part, but a mix of Grenztruppen and Kampfgruppen der Arbeiterklasse (Border Guards and Combat Groups of the Working Class, aka Communist Party militia, respectively). Nobody had thought West Berlin would be that difficult, so they delegated it to the East Germans...and the East Germans made a hash of it.

Their units were constant discipline problems. Looting and rape were common, and it took shooting a few of their officers and NCOs to get them moving again. The East German regulars, when we worked with them, were far better behaved. And NATO, they knew who they were facing, and took shameless advantage.

How so?

They would often booby trap stores they knew the stupid party hack bastards were sure to loot. I once saw a massive bomb take out a grocery store and most of a company of Kampfgruppe men. The survivors were screaming and some were still on fire, one was screaming how he was blind, and wanted someone to find his legs, because he couldn't feel them anymore. Christ, things like that stay with you, Comrade Professor, they stay with you. But all of this was nothing compared to what came next.

So what was the 21st like for you?

It began like the last 5 days in Berlin had, losing an average of a tank a block, getting T-55s as replacements, and finding out nobody had either a) trained on T-55s, nor b) had trained as loaders. We had about 12 tanks left, including the replacement T-55s. By noon, we'd lost 5 vehicles, and a good chunk of their crews. You could mark the progress of the advance by the wrecks left behind us. We'd barely made it more than a few kilometers into West Berlin. The motor riflemen hadn't had it any easier, and in some cases, they refused to ride inside their BMPs, calling them "a coffin for 11 brothers". Jesus, it was a nightmare.

We didn't know about the Kassel-Echwinge exchange, at least, not until three hours after it occurred. By then, we knew by the detonations we were seeing in all directions. We could see the lights, like so many flashbulbs. We had a lot of gunners blinded that way...The blast waves shook a lot of buildings, and we lost a few men when a building came down on them. More, well, they committed suicide when they saw the last one. It was Karlhorst. Karlhorst was closest to us...and I knew at that point, my family was dead. I...I did things after that. Things I don't want committed to history. My deputy had to literally force me into my NBC suit. Every man should have some secrets, especially under such circumstances. (Major Volobriev began to cry at that point, and we stopped the interview for the rest of the day).
 
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The Major would be traumatized for life without proper therapeutical help that may be less abundant depending on the recovery status of the area he lives in.
 
The Major would be traumatized for life without proper therapeutical help that may be less abundant depending on the recovery status of the area he lives in.

If medical doctors are hard to come by? I almost shudder what mental health resources are going to be like to come by? Peter Watkins movie "The War Game" alludes to this.
 
PTSD is real and not to be brushed aside. Having said that humans are pretty resilient & have managed to survive some pretty severe traumas as a group (Black Death, religious wars of 17th century etc) long before psychology/psychiatry, psychotropic meds & so forth. Of course, its better to have those resources, your rates of recovery/function will be better. In a post nuclear holocaust scenario, psychiatric care is going to be in very very short supply, anybody with an MD is going to be back in a "GP" mode no matter what their specialty is - trying to maintain basic health, safe childbirth, oversee sanitation/public health & so forth. Any surviving pharmaceutical production will be for life saving drugs. For soldiers their best hope is mutual support - combat vets helping each other with decompression (a technique used currently by design and traditionally going back long time).
 
PTSD is real and not to be brushed aside. Having said that humans are pretty resilient & have managed to survive some pretty severe traumas as a group (Black Death, religious wars of 17th century etc) long before psychology/psychiatry, psychotropic meds & so forth. Of course, its better to have those resources, your rates of recovery/function will be better. In a post nuclear holocaust scenario, psychiatric care is going to be in very very short supply, anybody with an MD is going to be back in a "GP" mode no matter what their specialty is - trying to maintain basic health, safe childbirth, oversee sanitation/public health & so forth. Any surviving pharmaceutical production will be for life saving drugs. For soldiers their best hope is mutual support - combat vets helping each other with decompression (a technique used currently by design and traditionally going back long time).

And....alcohol. With hindsight, it is gross how much the WW2-generation of my grandparents drank (and smoked). Not only in the evening, or when socializing, but also acceptedly at work.
 
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