The Forest Brothers

She laughed to herself. These people; these people had only captured the public sectors of the city, and thought it was easy. Boy, would they be in for a ride.

Modernist city planning was hell in most circumstances; everything looked the same, everything was unfriendly, everything was unnavigable. But now...now it would finally be on their side. Everything was above the ground; the ground itself was blanketed with a veritable forest of trees, enough to severely impede the movement of forces. High buildings were perfect for snipers; their sheer massiveness would make it difficult to locate them. She looked through the open ribbon window on the highest story of the apartment building - the twenty-fifth, looking to her left and right, seeing only a vast, undulating mass made seemingly of glass. The nearest roadways were far, far away; the only entrance into the building would be through long, narrow, and winding tunnels from carparks, which she and her comrades knew very well; but the Reitzmic soldiers did not.

This would be ever so easy.

One of her compatriots entered the room. "So, how is it going?" he asked, smiling. Everyone was happy here; there was no worry, for these people...these people had gotten themselves into a mess far bigger than themselves.

"Fine," she said, laughing. "These people...."

"How stupid they are!" he finished. But there needed to be at least a little seriousness. The two took their positions at the different windows of the long room, ever so careful not to be seen or heard.

They were coming, and they would face hell.

alt text
An architectural drawing of Kiel, made in the 1920s; the highway at the bottom was later made into a forested public park.

IC SECRET!!!!!!

alt text

"Now you see, this is our operations plan for the next week. The blue represents the major roads that must at some point be taken. The orange represents our current line; we plan to create the pink line by tonight, and thus surround the airport, marked with a red dot. This will be taken.

In the city, our operatives will focus on the eastern section of the city, marked in white, in the areas behind the yellow line. This area should be taken in twelve hours overnight.

We will then set up the lines in purple in the following week. This will be a slower process as a result of the location of the lines, which run across a plain. We shall then create the dark yellow lines, after which we shall take Flensburg, in red."

They lay behind the burnt remnants of the wall of Collective Farm 29-C, their eyes peeking ever so slightly over it, across the plain and to a long group of buildings in the distance, a long, long road adjacent.

All was dark; there was not even the light of the moon or the stars. There was no movement on the road, no movement on the plain, no movement anywhere to be seen.

Neither of them spoke a word. Now of all times; no.

A light blinked repeatedly from a building several hundred meters away to their right. The signal.

They gave no response; there was no danger. Five minutes passed; the light began to blink again.

The two softly stood up, and carefully began to step away from the wall, concealing themselves under the tall grass of the plain.

The airport and the road remained silent. All would go well.

"What to do with these people?" she said, clicking her tongue. An entire battalion, in their hands, a battalion of occupiers. What had been going through their minds, she asked to herself, when they had gone there? Did they seriously expect them to fight for them, their capitalism, their imperialism? How did they even know where their command was? They had been forced to move; they had stripped the men and women of the battalion and given then a full body search, before clothing them with plain brown shirts and pants made of thick cloth taken from one of the few stores that had remained relatively intact in the city.

"Execute them, perhaps," said a man, walking up to her. "This is war, and we cannot afford to give away our secrets, our strategy."

"They are innocent," said the woman firmly, turning to the man, her eyebrows narrowed. "They are boys and girls, forced into service for a dictatorial regime that knows naught but power."

"They serve willingly," said the man. "They have come here, and they have brazenly declared themselves an occupying force. Kill them, kill them all."

"We will try them, then. We have our tribunals, we have justice. We are not animals. If found guilty, they may die as the dogs they may be. If not, then we keep them here, with us, until the war has ended."

"No. That is not safe. These people are tricky. They already know everything; we must kill them."

"We do not know this for sure."

"We cannot wait any longer, lest the operation fail and we and freedom die."

"Freedom has already died, then."

"This is war."

"That is no excuse."

"This does not matter. We shall take a vote."

"You will see, then. You'll see."

"All in favor?" asked the man. Nothing could go wrong. They were all in the greatest danger from these people; if they were to live through this, these Reitzmic fighters must all die.

Eighteen ayes, including him, in a unit of 26. Many seemed worried, or distressed, among these; but they knew, he was sure; they knew that this was a necessary evil for the continued freedom of their beloved Eastern Haane.

He continued. "All against?"

Only five nays. Several people had abstented. He did not blame them; matters of life and death were always difficult, and even he doubted his own decision. As for the people against, their reasoning was certainly solid, and he could not help but admire their steadfast loyalty to the ideals of democracy; but idealism had no place here, in his opinion.

A moment passed, those in the room looking, expectantly, at him. The soldiers were to be executed; that they knew, but they could not be executed until the announcement was made.

A second moment. He swallowed; how many lives would they be taking away? But then again, by sparing them, how many lives would be lost?

A third moment. Finally, he spoke. "This assembly has deliberated, and it has now made a decision. The captured belligerents are thus to be executed, by firing squad, immediately."

The water rushed just below her feet, her hands struggling to hold onto the crumbling dirt. This was necessary, she thought; necessary for the liberation.

They were standing in an old water culvert, trying to make their way to a wooden outbuilding, seemingly about to collapse. It was the closest building to their target, the airport; and thus a suitable place to begin.

Step, shift, step, shift. Closer now. The horizon remained dark, the sky a seemingly impenetrable black. A few more meters to go.

They remained as silent as possible, for while the darkness of the night could aid them, it also concealed their enemy, which could be anywhere, waiting to kill them all.

They were there. She lifted herself up, kicking against the soil side of the culvert in an attempt to support herself. Struggling to stay upright, she surveyed the plain before her. The outbuilding, and nothing else. No tanks, at the very least.

Carefully, they crawled up the culvert, one by one, into the tall grass. They stood, although they took care to conceal themselves. No one could hear them, no one could see them; lest they be found.

They made their way into the outbuilding through an old door, with rusted handle, which creaked and groaned far too loudly for their comfort.

The building was made up of overlapping wooden boards, and thus provided gaps through which one could easily look. Perfect, in a way.

As far as she could see, though, there was nothing to worry about. Everything was black, no light anywhere. The area was abandoned.

A repeating light came from the right of the building. The signal.

They were crouched in a thicket of trees, the long winding road just a few meters away. Everything was prepared; the square kilometer around them was peppered with guerillas, making it difficult, if not impossible, for the belligerents to escape.

The section of the road before them was dusted with a thin covering of leaves. This was purposeful; they had placed several beds of nails beneath them, as to impede the progress of the Reitzmic artillery.

They held tightly to their guns, for they would need them soon. For they planned to give the forces of Reitzmag hell, and they were not about to renege on that.

A faint light flashed from the depths of the wood; really, they knew, coming from the plain. Those to their left had prepared, in the same way that they had. They returned the signal, and flashed it to their right.

All would go well.

They had come. She was nearly jumping with glee as they walked right into her way. They were completely ignorant, walking ducks, in fact. All she had to do was wait for the signal, and then...

Through her walkie-talking came a series of beeps, a series that she had memorized ever so carefully. The signal. In exactly ten seconds, they would open fire, all of them across the city.

Ten.

God, how impatient she was. To wait was an agony, but it was necessary for the survival of independent Eastern Haane.

Nine.

She itched to pull the trigger, but she resisted, with all her might, tormenting herself with the memory of the camps of Areai.

Eight.

She closed her eyes, breathing in and out, and suddenly everything seemed much faster, much calmer.

Seven.
Six.
Five.
Four.
Three.
Two.
One.

She and her compatriot pulled their triggers, and the wrath of gunfire rained down across the city. There were many of them, and together; together they would fight for a free, socialist, and independent Eastern Haane.

From a distance, he heard the announcement of the Reitzmic soldiers. Good. They had bought them some time. Time enough to blow up these charges; time enough to blow up this ramp on the road from the airport to Kiel, the sole ramp that connected the two.

The nature of Kiel's modernist city planning would leave the Reitzmen and women trapped, trapped in a labyrinthine city, surrounded by snipers.

He had no time to waste. He set the end of a long string on fire - they could not have advanced mechanisms - and pulled himself away.

A great plume of red was raised into the sky as a tumultuous bang was heard, as the ramp collapsed and a cloud of dust diffused.

He sighed. It was done. All would go well.

As they approached the airport, it became clear that there were in fact people there; people, soldiers, who had managed to stay hidden. Their work was to cut the 3033 meter long runway with a series of charges given to them. They were to use all that they had been given. They entered the airport, covertly, covered by the dark, crawling, at the 1/3 mark of the runway and taxiway, carefully placing charge upon charge behind them.

It took them thirty minutes to reach the end; but then, then; they detonated the charges.

Fire shot up high in the air, dust kicked up everywhere. Nothing could be seen; the combined blast was forceful enough to throw them off their feet. In the distance, they barely registered their counterparts doing the same as well.

But it was done. THey had cut the runway into three, roughly equal sections. Nothing would be able to land, nothing important; nothing would be able to take off.

(Edited because of misunderstanding w/ Reitzmag's post)

They were just below the ravine. Half of them were dead; the rest of them had retreated. But their artillery had been halted, and would soon face greater struggle. Their work was done; they retreated back into the tall grass of the plain, slowly, taking care to make no noise at all, although many of them were greatly injured.

As they limped back, crawling through the soft dirt of the plain, they thought of the five that they had lost, and the hands of the capitalists. Capitalism had for so long taken everything from them. Those who were older remembered the concentration camps of the pre-1996 dictatorship, how they were tortured and deprived of food and sleep if they did not meet the quotas; how their parents had to struggle to pay the 'rent' for living in the camps; the meager pay; the blasting horns which proclaimed that Eastern Haane was finally free from the socialist menace. Those who were younger remembered the poverty and the hunger of the former capitalist government.

Why would they choose to go back to such horrors? They would never give in, never give their lives to people who wished to force that back upon them. They would rather die in service of their nation, in service of the free and socialist world republic that was to come.

They had fired, and now they were being fired upon. An announcement had come from a loudspeaker; but of course, it was calling them to surrender. They would never surrender; they would rather die than give up the hope for an independent Eastern Haane. The two withdrew, disappearing into the cavernous interior of the building, hiding themselves in a storage closet. They would never be found; there was simply too much to search. They gave the signal to those further in the city that the Reitzmic soldiers were coming. Their sector; their assigned neighborhood; had been cleared; now, they were to draw the Reitzmic fighters deeper and deeper in the city, before destroying all transportation infrastructure behind them and trapping them by the sea.

Why did these people keep walking into their hands?

They greeted them, and led them into the outbuilding that many now referred to as "Death." They barred the door, blocked the windows, stuffed the air vents with opium, and set it on fire, as they had done before, and would continue to do, and waited, expectantly, for those inside to fall as their brains became addled on the potent drug.

FLASHBACK

They had come, with military vehicles, but apparently friendly. It was terrifying; they all believed they would be stabbed in the back. He, their speaker, smiled uncomfortably. "Well, hello. What exactly have you come here for?"

They explained their aims, but already they all knew that they were going to stab them in the back at some point.

"Wait a bit," said the man, attempting to smile yet again.

They went some distance in the woods before deciding, after only fifteen minutes of deliberation, to drug them. It would be a massive operation; but their stores of opium were enough.

The Reitzmic soldiers were allowed into their base, an outbuilding of a former collective farm. They, the loyal and socialist Haaneans, stuffed the opium into the metal air vents of the building before setting it aflame.

They barred the doors, covering the windows, and waited.

They had buried the explosive devices along the dirt road leading to the airport. They, at the very end of the Kilometer, had been entrusted with the task, as a final 'reward' for the Reitzmic soldiers, who would have had to push through a truly endless number of nail beds as they were being fired upon by countless partisans.

On the other end, on the section of the road on which travel went east, others had buried as well; but none had traveled that way, at least yet. But now; now they had received signal that the soldiers would be coming. They had just entered the Kilometer, on the road in the direction west; the first groups had begun their initial assault, although some had had to retreat as a result of casualties.

It would take a very long time for the Reitzmic army to reach the end of the Kilometer; that was assured. But from what they had heard, they would have to be ready, alert at all times.

"You are telling me," said the man, "that even more of them are coming?"

"Yes," said the woman. "Their stupidity is incredible. All of them who have come here have not returned; some of them have died from an overdose of opium. We still have quite a bit left, though. Good that we were able to discover that drug lord's stash."

He turned away, and greeted the Reitzmic soldiers who had come yet again. He was getting sick of this; they could not afford to waste any more opium on these capitalists. But they had to.

"There is a phone in that building," he said, pointing to the building which they had used to drug the last groups of the Reitzmic soldiers. "Call those above us in Vienna. Call, or else we will have to take action against you."

They were herded into the building. The door was locked, the windows blocked, and the opium again placed into the air vents and burnt.

They again waited, as they had done for the past few days on a near daily basis. Meanwhile, the artillery and the military vehicles that had been captured when they had drugged the first batch were put into use. From what they had heard, their war against Reitzmag was going poorly. Somehow, they had managed to plan for every contingency. Many of their compatriots were dead; now, they would have to take their true revenge.

Agnes Obel had received horrifying news. There had been a veritable massacre in Kiel; according to the information they had been shown, the Reitzmic government had shown no mercy to their resistance. Rockets had been used to kill a scattered force of less than 100; tanks had shot, in an attempt to kill their forces, into a protected wilderness.

Their forces had been near obliterated; and she would have to present this to the National Convention.

They were horrified. Never before had they heard of such excessive tactics being used in a war; never before had they heard of such violence on the behalf of a civilized army against an unprepared force less that 700 in number.

Within thirty minutes, a resolution had been drafted, passing swiftly. The lack of proportionality in the Reitzmic response was truly sickening; she felt as though she were about to vomit.

"How many of us are left?" he asked, shaking. There was nothing that could be done anymore; he knew that they, the capitalists, had killed nearly all of them.

"Twenty-two," said the woman before him, her voice a shadow of what it was. There had been 108 before the offensive.

His knees felt weak; a wave of nausea overcame him. "In the city?"

"We do not know. There has been no communication."

So they were all dead. 236 people, friends, comrades, reduced to 22.

"A retreat...a retreat will be necessary," he said, swallowing. He did not believe that he was saying what he was saying. But they would need to, if the few of them that were left were to survive.

She nodded silently. "I will; I will go and tell the rest."

Slowly, she stepped off through the woods, to the little throng of people who were huddled near a rock, rising from the ground like a dagger. Each of them, all twenty of them, began to rise. Many were limping, their shirts drenched with blood. Some were missing limbs; others had to be carried, for they no longer had legs.

"We will go to Flensburg," he said, finally. "The city is empty, and it is not very far. We will...we will be safe there," he said, tears welling from his eyes.

They simply stared in incomprehension, their eyes glassed over, as though they could not see him; hear what he had said. So much had happened to them; they were dead to the world.

He looked to the comatose Reitzmic soldiers, who lay beneath numerous lean-tos. None, thankfully, had been executed yet, despite the vote. They would leave them; without the dosage of opium, they would recover, although they would be left with withdrawal, that hopefully would not be too bad.

Slowly, they began to walk. How many of them would be left when they arrived, they did not know. Of course, they had the vehicles, the many, many vehicles, that they had taken from the captured soldiers; but they could not use them if they wished not to be seen.

The man sent out a communique to Vienna, to the government of Obel:

TO THE NATIONAL CONVENTION OF THE REPUBLIC OF EASTERN HAANE

THE OPERATION IN KIEL HAS FAILED. AS WITH PREVIOUS COMMUNICATION, NON-PROPORTIONALITY OBSERVED. ORDER OF NO QUARTER LIKELY, AS BEFORE. 214 DEAD, AT LEAST EIGHT INJURED. RETREATING TO FLENSBURG.

The woman and her family emerged from a little house in the woods. They had hidden there ever since the coup of Areai; for they all were terrified.

Now, however, that was over, in a way. Areai had been replaced by a tyranny far worse, the tyranny of the Reitzmic state, which wished to force the horrors of capitalism, which she remembered quite well - the sickness, the hunger, the poverty, the torture, the pure agony of life - upon them yet again.

She told her children and her husband to stay inside; she, who had always been the head of the family, would go.

They went back into the little house, waving goodbye tearfully, as she walked toward the base. A hammer was concealed in her clothing.

As she approached that base, where so many of her countrymen had fallen, she saw a man in the corner of her eyes. It was the man who had begun it all, the man who had so enraged the nation that it had devolved into total violence. Attorney Winston, the butcher of the Haaneans.

Within her heart a hatred burned; she was hellbent on killing this man, who had done so much to their nation and had caused the deaths of so many of her loved ones.

She began to approach him, pretending to smile. "Attorney Winston!" she shouted, in a false joy. "I have always been your greatest supporter!" She felt her stomach turn inside of her; bile filled her mouth. She swallowed, and continued. "I'd like to talk to you!"

And quite suddenly, in the moment of confusion that she had created, she swung at his head with the hammer.

COLLECTIVE FARM 89-E

The bodies of Areai's soldiers and lord laid in recently dug pits. They had defeated them, at high cost. Half of them were dead; in a few days, Areai's goverment would discover what had happened, and kill the rest.

Enough time, however, to evacuate. A total of five collective farms had fallen into their control; they had elected a governing council, composed of ten representatives from each.

They had tried to organize people by profession, as well, as to ensure the better organization of production and the rebuilding that would come, although this had been slightly less succesful.

They were not willing to subsume themselves into the Republic. It had proven itself to be weak, and in many ways undemocratic. If the salvation and liberation of Eastern Haane was to come, they would have to found a new government, based on new principles.

The governing council had approved such a thing; now, it was her work; her honor; to declare the new state.

The people of the five collective farms, or at the very least those who could attend, were gathered before her.

"The Governing Council of the Haanean Nation, which derives its existence and legitimacy from the people, declares the following, with the power vested in it through the power of the Haanean people. The previous goverments have usurped their power, using it to tyrannize the innocent people of Eastern Haane. With all our might, we declare that this must end. A true democracy must be installed, one which derives its legitimacy and its power from the people, one which acts purely for the people, with their consent, their support. We thus declare the formal establishment of the People's State of Eastern Haane!

For the people of Eastern Haane have for ages endured tribulations and tyranny, forced upon them by a succession of dictatorial and reactionary governments, governments too eager to betray the people to the capitalist aggressors. We, acting in solidarity for the nation and for its perpetual freedom, fought against this, suffering but now prevailing, to liberate the people from the many tyrannies that they have faced. The forces of evil, of the tyrannies of Areai and of Reitzmag, have and will be destroyed. The people were liberated, and exercised their liberation in the truest way possible, in the election of loyal deputies bound to their will.

These deputies, united in the new Governing Council as the greatest representation of the will of the people of Eastern Haane, have now declared the new People's State as the continuation of this pure will.

They have established this new state, and created its institutions, both the Council and the nascent Syndicates, to serve and to represent the will of the people.

We shall not oppose the democratic Republic in Vienna, for our aims for the final liberation of all Eastern Haane are the same, for now."

SKAGEN

The city of Skagen had been fully taken. She looked on, from the balcony of an apartment, tears of joy coming from her eyes. They had organized themselves into small, self-governing assemblies to manage their apartment buildings; labor, too, was being organized into highly democratic syndicates as to better organize the economy and prepare for the rebuilding that was to come.

The people were safe, they were happy, they were secure, and they were free.

This was the beautiful future that they would bring to Eastern Haane, a future in which labor was organized harmoniously, in which policy was developed not through violence but through calm and logical deliberation.

Several workers were at the postal office. They had voted, as part of the postal syndicate of their commune, to begin their work immediately. A coordination council had been elected as to, of course, coordinate their work with those of others.

Already mail of many types was being sorted and delivered; they were very busy. But in their work they were happy, for they had total control over what they were to do.

FLENSBURG

A cold wind caused the windows to rattle. Yet that was not what the Speaker was so terrified of.

Nine of his compatriots had died on the way, falling unconscious from blood loss. He remembered their pale faces, their final breaths. They were forced to leave them; they could not afford to be captured. God knows what those capitalist demon would do to them.

And now they were sitting here, in the dark, waiting for death. They could not make a sound, could not move, could not do anything but simply sit there and slowly die. The forces of evil had prevailed, and they were now too afraid to face it head on; now, they had shown their true cowardice, for they did not wish to die for their nation.

And, worst of all, they had accepted it. Unwillingly, but that was of no matter.

SKAGEN

A series of boats, manned by heavily armed men, passed by. Where these men had come from, she did not know; their intentions were even more mysterious, and thus all the more terrifying.

She took what she knew to the commune office, and there, an emergency meeting was called.

"There are," she said to those of her commune, gathered before her, "soldiers here. They are passing by our coast, watching us, watching the sea. I do not know what their intentions are, but something must be done."

A general expression of shock came from the populace, and discussion began. The debate was generally not to do with the benevolence of the soldiers, for virtually everyone had instantly agreed that that was non-existent. It was, instead, to do with how they would deal with them. Some proposed that they be forcefully taken ashore and forced to stand trial; others that they should be shouted at; another third saying that they should be summarily executed.

The assembly agreed upon the second option as a first choice, followed by the first. The third option was rejected entirely, save for if it was truly an emergency.

More boats had passed by by now, on a terrifying regular basis. None of the peoplewanted to return to their work; most were of the opinion that an occupation was imminent, and that, as such, they should be at arms.

The group elected to warn the soldiers went up to the shore, carrying a loudspeaker. The loudest of them all, a weary teacher of the first creche, shouted,

"You are in the waters of the People's State of Eastern Haane! By the order of the General Assembly of Commune 5, we ask that you leave the area, for it has been declared a demilitarized zone by the Governing Council of the State, with the consent of the people! We do not wish to cause any harm; however, if an invasion is attempted, it will be resisted by the entirety of the population!"

They were increasingly aware of the terror that the Reitzmic soldiers were inflicting on the nation. Some, many, even, of them were capitalists; yes; but none of them believed in such atrocities. Certainly, none of them believed in the wild free-marketism of the Reitzmic government either, instead preferring an indicative and heavily regulated economy based upon trade unionism and small business.

But the atrocities, at the moment, were more important. Mass surveillance, non-proportionality; all of these were awful. There were also terrifying rumors that, some day, they would all be deported to Reitzmag and forced to integrate into the population.

Something would soon have to be done if they wished to survive as a nation. There were none that could ruin what they were planning; the cultists here were gone, killed by Areai some time ago and stuffed into holes dug into the ground.

Everything; the entire base, would go up into flames. They would flee into the forest as quickly as possible, to avoid detection, although the Reitzmic surveillance state would surely find and kill them, even if they scattered themselves throughout the entire country, even if they chopped their bodies into bits and had one person throw the pieces into the sea before themself jumping in.

They gathered, using matches to light the temporary housing on fire. With the floor of the forest covered in leaves, it did not take very long for the fire to spread.

As the smoke became unbearable, choking everything in a blanket of grey, in an unbearable and awful smoke that burned eyes and throats they all ran into the forest, scattering themselves, but still running, as though their very lives were dependent on it, which was entirely true.