Mr. Oddly Fox is amazing! He can shoot 15 feet of flames from each of his ears! His sweat droplets morph into hungry, man eating blue tigers when they make contact with the soil! Those tigers can take down a gazelle in less than 5 minutes and turn their entrails inot a delicious barbecue. He is not of this ear… Read more

Mr. Oddly Fox is amazing! He can shoot 15 feet of flames from each of his ears! His sweat droplets morph into hungry, man eating blue tigers when they make contact with the soil! Those tigers can take down a gazelle in less than 5 minutes and turn their entrails inot a delicious barbecue. He is not of this earth! And his trades are also out of this world!

well, there we were, stalingrad. the fuehrer's next leap toward moscow. as we entered stalingrad, all of us were experiencing uneasiness, as the victory came at a great price. the fuehrer, well he did not care. he would stop at nothing until russia was on her knees. then what? we would have russia, what then? more oil … Read more

well, there we were, stalingrad. the fuehrer's next leap toward moscow. as we entered stalingrad, all of us were experiencing uneasiness, as the victory came at a great price. the fuehrer, well he did not care. he would stop at nothing until russia was on her knees. then what? we would have russia, what then? more oil and resources to conquer africa? this war has gone to shit. i doubt if we all live for another month. "jinx" , said the corporal , "you're going to get us hexed". " doesn't matter much", i replied. "we've taken stalingrad, not much longer and the fuehrer expects us to push onward to moscow, the ruskees aren't going to simply surrender like most of Poland." "well" , said my friend, "we made it this far, with a guy named 'jinx' that is, that says something." Maybe we should change my name to lucky, you now to fit the situations we are always in and out of." , i said. "NO," added the corporal, " a name change is all a jinx, especially in THIS kind of situation." some bit later..... I woke to the booms of hundreds of FLAK cannon firing at bombers to the sky. "wait", i said to myself," where's my friend and the corporal?" well, no need to trouble myself with their where-abouts now, we are under attack." i knew the russians wouldn't simply give up. like many before, the russians would fight to the death rather than surrender. even more their incentive was boosted. an over-dramatic shout i heard once before, "we fight, or we starve", that was a russian private's last shout before he charged and was mowed down by an mg-42 emplacement. as various thoughts raced through my battle-weary mind, I thought about the advantages of being an intelligent low rank soldier, more time for more thought. thoughts of the fuehrer, thoughts of my fallen friends, thoughts of my still strong brotherly bonds with my friends not yet dead. "let's hit it", i said to myself. i went outside the building i was in. outfitless and alone i decided to get a better view of what was going on, a bad choice, but worth what i saw. i saw the endless bursts of FLAK shells. a field of flowers in its own right. suddenly a bomb hit my building top. i blacked out. i awoke with a doctor about to stick an IV in my arm. I thought, "HELL NO!!! you are not about to stick that needle into MY arm. i think not doc!" the doctor simply walked away as soon as he saw i gained consciousness, tending to other patients. i looked across the endless beds of wounded men, i did not see my friends. "thank God", i thought. almost immediately, something i should have seen coming. my two friends jumped from the floor by my bed. scared me half to death. "AHHHHH!" they exclaimed. wore torn, but still maintained a sense of humor. i truly loved these men as my family. they were all i had. my mother was Jewish and my father died protecting her from the SS. well, was there much to say? "good to see you on your feet", said my friend. the corporal, not being much emotional, said, "good to see you". what do i get for hopping on a building in a combat zone? " i should be dead", i thought. the corporal as if he could read my face, said, "stop thinking what you're thinking." i knew what he meant, as cheating death was a daily routine for us. this is a war. if you were lucky to survive as everyone around you fell into the black, it was a curse. or a jinx. so we continued on outside to see that the air raids had ceased for a moment. we passed many a cannon that had blown up due to overheating, these cannons had heated up so much that when the gunner's loaded a shell, it popped off in the chamber. that says something about the battle, it was long. really long. my friends told me that it had lasted about the time they woke to the FLAK clouds, through the night, and stopped when i woke up in the field hospital. that meant that i had slept through more than half of that time. shocking i'm still alive. the only bomb that hit my building was the one that knocked me down. "let's see if we can recover any wounded", said the corporal. we passed many bodies strewn all over the ground. first place we checked was a bunker about 120 meters away. "it looks as if the bomb only shattered the roof", said my friend as we approached the torn structure. a woman ran past us, she reminded me of my love back home. Helga von Schnare was her name. i can't say she helped me get through the conflict, as she was not here, watching my back. how could she? but she was in my thoughts. we drew closer to the busted bunker. several moans and groans reached our ears as we looked over the edge. we i dropped my gear and got a line, and went down. i lined down about 2 meters. i saw a few bodies here and there, but one body distracted me, this poor fellow got the business end of that measly bomb, the roof shattered, he got micro-rocks in the face, the reinforcement metal of a piece jabbed him in the gut. that wasn't the worst part of it. he wasn't dead! he looked at me, i looked at him. we shared this death lock stare for a few moments. "what should we do", asked the corporal. "you ask me that as if it were a question", i replied "what do you mean", asked my friend. " if we move him, he will suffer a fate worse than death, a slower, drugged up death." , said the corporal. i replied," well corporal, we could give him morphine if he'll have it." we asked him, he refused. we alerted the medics of the others, and kicked it back with this man whose death we saw as imminent. we gave him a light, that he didn't refuse, but requested. we waited for about 7 hours. by then, the FLAK party had begun again. we took shifts keeping this man company. i said" to hell with it, i am going to help you." he seemed to close his eyes a turn over. i gave him some morphine, a shot of penicillin, and pulled him out. i was shocked to see the reinforcement bars pinned him, bruised him, but did not kill him. it seems that a metal plate came between him and certain death. he was smiling at us all as we watched him rise from an imminent death, untouched. "titan!!!", the corporal exclaimed. this man seemed to go with us after the bunker. 'titan' as became known to us as the hours passed. more and more bombs hit us as the day went on. we decided to find something to eat. " i swear there's more ammunition than bread crumbs here!", said my friend. " i agree", i replied, "it's like they don't feed us enough to fight". "all of our money combined, couldn't buy us a steak and a ticket home", said titan. "you better believe it" , said the corporal. after a meager meal..... once more the FLAK cannons ceased. we took advantage of this time to locate a position to hold up for the night. but, as soon as it had stopped, the FLAK's uproar began again. the field of flowers that i come all to familiar with, reappeared. either way we were tired, and as long as the fuehrer was nowhere to be seen, we were going to get some sleep. "i bet our great leader is having a secret meeting in his little bunker, where he pretends he is king, right now.", i said jokingly. we slept easily, as we were no strangers to the roaring of FLAK cannons firing into the night. later..... we all arose from our all-but-too-short period of rest. but like good soldiers we had to do our duty. for God and for country. well, mostly because deserters were not in the good graces of the wehrmacht high command. well, once again, we headed out to patrol. this time we not only passed blown up FLAK cannons and dead bodies but apparently last night's raid brought more casualties than normal. it seems the russians had launched a minor sneak attack on our inner perimeter, almost successful we lost a few reserve armored vehicles. worst among the light casualties, was a sturmtiger, a heavy mortar tank. these sturmtigers played an important role in our inner defenses. if we lose those defenses it'll be tough fighting to the last tooth in my mouth close quarters battle with the ruskees. "it's not looking pretty", i said. "i know", agreed the corporal. "what should we do?", asked my friend. "our jobs", said titan. "took the words right outta my mouth", said the corporal. "sorry, sir", said titan. "it's okay", replied the corporal. i know by the looks on all their faces during that conversation, the storm of war was brewing the brew of battle. we were all doing what we love. fighting for country, this time we were unsure of the reasons for this war. with our defenses crumbling, we decided to pay our friend at the armory a "little" visit, and requisition a "little" supplies. you know to better play our role in the war effort. "let's head on down our temple of war", said the corporal. "where?", asked titan. me and my friend both replied at the same time, "the armory!!!". we all exclaimed in a jesterly manner, "yyyeeeaaauuuhhhhh!!!". I added my bit, "let's hit it". time passes..... i explained to titan our experiences with the armory. "your saying in the last day you've known us, you didn't deduce our key to survival yet? my names jinx. we definitely had some help from the almighty bullet, the helping hand grenade, and a few zipper machine guns.", i said laying it out. "zipper?", said titan. the corporal responded, "mg-42, a name the allies gave it". "allies?" titan said in a questioning manner. "yes sir, allies. you see, titan, when we joined the army sent us to the afrika korps. when our outfit got wiped out, they sent us to a station along a neutral border, russia. then, this station went active. we got sent in first wave to advance on unsuspecting russia." i explained. as i kept laying it out for titan to examine. "so", he asked, "you guys have been in three outfits, other than this one?" "yes",i said, "except for the corporal he was the newest addition until we saved you" "thank you for that", said titan. "no problem", we said. "not your fault you almost died" as we chatted on, we finally reached the armory. we arrived at the armory, talked with our friend, alexander. we called him alex for short. but what really got under his skin was when we addressed him as al. I do it occasionally to bust his balls, keeps the balance. can't be too nice, but can't be a total jerk either. i once saw a guy get the t-t-total shit beat out of him for calling him al. but the funny thing was al didn't even do it. one of al's friends did it. you see, alex was having a bad day, his wife and kids got killed in a gas leak at their summer home. the house was really old, gas leaked, his loved one's were no more. "hey fellas", said alex. we all exchanged our greetings and such. "i'm going to cut to the chase", said the corporal. "we know how busy you are, alex", implied the corporal. "yeah, lots to do", alex remarked sarcastically. "we need armament", said the corporal. "what are we packing these days?", asked alex. "you know", replied the corporal, "grenades, a rifle, an mp-41, and if you got a special, which i know you do, an stg-44. also a rocket launcher, plenty of ammunition, and to top it off, 2 mortars." "any munitions for the mortars?", asked alex. "yeah", replied the corporal, "plenty of generics, a box of ATs, and just a few gas. we'll come pick that all up after we get positioned, and set up." alex didn't think twice about it. no orders no confirmation of requisition. alex was family to us. we were always there for him, he always are back in the ordnance aspect of the war. after the war most of us would be going home to nothing, typical. you serve your country, lose everything twice, to return to shattered homes. we found ourselves a nice position to rest, this would be our station. we will defend our position to the death. or surrender, whichever comes first. but, now we rest. we awoke shortly after that damn FLAK cannon near our position overheated we peered out of a window, scattered remains of an 88 all around. as the smoke rose we scavenged the ruins for anything and anyone salvagable. we found two men alive, unconscious. the other three, they weren't as lucky. or cursed. the two we saved awoke several hours later. their names were max and wilhelm. they were regular gunner's mates. they had worked for hours, non-end, until their 88mm FLAK cannon overheated cracked and shattered to rubble. that says something about german efficiency. good or bad, it says something. is our equipment crap, or are our soldiers hard workers? either way, max and wil were here now. suddenly a very loud explosion grabbed our attention. to loud for an overheated cannon. i glanced out of a window and saw an airplane. wilhelm and max were battle ready in that instant. "go check it out", max told wilhelm, "i'll cover you." the corporal stould by and watched them enact their maneuver. "hands up!!!", exclaimed max. very shortly after, we heard the crack of their rifles. i saw the circumstances and looked down. next thing i know i hear shouts. "contacts!", shouted one soldier. "i'm hit!", cried another. i looked up to a silent street of corpses. "what's the whooshing sound" asked titan. "shit-sturm", remarked the corporal. "what?!?", we all seemed to ask at once. "PARACHUTES!!!", exclaimed the corporal. we all had the same "we are so screwed" expression on our battle-worn faces. we all dove out of view of these ambushers of the skies. "okay" , i whispered, "now what?" "it's obvious", my friend replied silently. " pop out, empty our mags on them. but with skill" "good plan", we said in doubt. on the count of three we popped up and wasted all but one. we clicked our guns. we realized we were out. we looked at each other, we looked at him, he smiled back a crooked russian smile. we ducked and reloaded, but before we had a chance he lobbed a grenade into our window, me being me, i threw it back. he picked it up and then, nothing but red russian on the street. "great", i started in, "they are parachuting in now. what next?" "well", said titan, "we are surrounded." "nice", replied my friend. "you asked", titan said jokingly. we all knew the one irrefutable fact, the Russians had us surrounded, we were running out of time. we heard of many failed attempts on the outer perimeter, each one getting closer and closer. we knew they were coming, we knew we were at a critical point in the Russia campaign, we knew many things, accept when. when were they coming. our question was soon answered when all hell broke loose. the FLAKs opened fire on the sky. we looked at the sky, we saw what looked like the entire Russian air force. that wasn’t all we saw. we saw an entire assault force coming straight toward our position. we were further back behind the inner defenses, but in front of the last defense line. those tanks were blazing their assault path. they left nothing for the reaper. as the impending destruction rolled toward us, we set up our two mortars. we divided into two crews. the corporal and I together, titan and my friend. “open fire”, yelled some officer in the street outside. he was promptly relieved of command. a shell from a t-34 directly hit him like a rock from a sling shot. this slingshot weighing a few tons, and the rock being a few pounds over 10. “fire for effect”, commanded the corporal. first we threw a few gas shells at the incoming assault force, we hoped this would kill some of the drivers or gunners. it seemed to settle, and when some of the tanks hit the cloud, they seemed to stop. but one tank, wow. this tank rushed forward at high speeds. we thought that the driver fell onto the throttle, before he was gassed. titan didn’t hesitate. he grabbed the panzershriek, fired it. a direct hit on the right track. the tank veered right at such a high speed it tore the left belt right of the guides. it sat there and whirred forever. as we resumed fire, we exhausted our gas supply. so, we began targeting the tanks with the AT munitions. with extreme precision, we hit tanks left and right, but they just kept coming. as the tanks rushed our position we ceased mortar fire, and simply let the last tank past. he was directly headed for our building. they weren’t too smart. the tank commander popped his head out of the turret. bad move. titan had become a ruthless soldier. he rushed downstairs stealthily. he slapped a mag in to its well. he looked slightly out the window, the driver was just looking at the sky. in broad daylight, not too bright. his comrades were urging him to resume his duty, inside the tank. well, a moment later, titan popped up and fired. without missing a beat, and undetected, he took out the commander. he dropped back to cover as soon as he had risen. we saw the front pivotal gun looking around for the deadly assassin. well, the tank was still there. learning from the seemingly ‘master’ tank killing in our unit, my friend grabs panzershriek, points it at the open hatch, squeezes the trigger. fire was thrown all around the tank. the tank crew was scorched alive, they began firing like crazy, the driver tried to drive, the gears must have jammed. the tank was still running. suddenly, the tank was a ball of flame, smoke, and metal shrapnel. awesome. the flames had reached the magazine. the t-34 was no more. we resumed firing our mortars. we were getting more accurate as the barrage continued. maybe it was because the tanks were drawing closer and closer. maybe it was because we had mad skills. as the fight continued, support units started showing up. the worst picture we had painted for us in the was a sturmtiger that rolled up beside our building. the corporal said, “way to paint a target on a tank.” with a slow reload rate, this thing was a sitting duck half the time. the ordnance it delivered packed a solid punch. along with the sturmtiger, a few APCs delivered fresh troops. the bad thing was this reinforcement wave that had amassed, was based around our position. another target painted on us. “you men!”, barked the corporal at some privates and a squad leader, “man these mortars.” “let’s get out of here”, said the corporal. this was his way of keeping us alive. he did not do it often do this, but this was no time for us to work as a group. we worked better alone in these situations. we were not deserting, the forces at our position was more than enough to do what we were doing. maybe a little less…..skilled. but it was enough. as we took up another position eastward of our position previous, we took a quick breather. another unit of support units passed us to reinforce a crumbling position directly south of us. we picked up an mg-42 off of some poor fellow. it had few broken pieces, the gearbox was smashed. the corporal said, “easy fix”. he kept an mg-42 repair kit on him at all times, don’t ask why. I beg you. we helped him repair the weapon, we set it up in a bunker below us. more of a basement really. we just broke the ground-level window. we made a bunker faster AND better than the french’s maginot line. barricaded the basement door that allowed direct access to the basement from the outside. the only way down was the stairs. we had ways to insure that nobody used the door except us. locked the door and laced the outside of the door with vertical hook-trips. a little thing we picked up. you tie a piece of metal to a string and hook it to a grenade with a loosened pin. the careless soldier’s shoulder snags the hook and pulled the pin. the explosion came not from below or beside, but above the soldier’s head. we modified this technique. we made it to where when the pin is pulled the grenade drops into the soldiers hand. works beautifully. we insured that once it was pulled that it dropped but firmly attaching the grenade’s secondary, or handle, to the ceiling. the secondary falls off anyways, we just used this to an advantage. well, our Cos always said never get trapped in a basement. we liked it. took titan a little while to adjust. he eventually fell asleep to cope. we stayed in that basement for a while, but it was annoying how titan paced the around the basement. we all started get bad feelings about that basement. before we left, I suggested a clever idea. tank trap. we had nothing cooler to do. my idea was to make this building look like it didn’t have a basement, and substantially weaken the support beams. so we got titan and my friend to go shove dirt over the sides, up top, that made it look like it had a basement. the corporal and I started cutting the beams. “I don’t know where you get these ideas, but I love them”, said the corporal. “I try”, I replied. we finished our tank trap, and went on to find our victim. there was a strategy that I didn’t even think about, that went beautifully with this trap. getting the enemy to do what you want them to do. not by asking, not by forcing, but through fear. you see, if an assault force saw their lead tank fall in a building as it rolled through it, they would avoid buildings and other suspicious structures, out of fear. we soon saw an assault unit heading our way. infantry leading the tanks, an unusual formation, even for the russians. well, we pretended we did not see them, seemingly foolish, but brilliant as later observed. they followed us trying to sneak up behind us. heroes are cool, but don’t stride to be hero, you will end up dead. unless you’re good at being a hero. but, they followed us, directly into the building. the tank stopped outside. they went in cautiously, ready for CQB. we had already left the building. they realized that too late. one of them snagged one of our vertical trip-hooks. the building shook. we looked around the corner, the Russian tank commander was pissed. he was hitting his hatch rail, like he had just lost his family. war is hell. in his fit, he commanded all tanks forward. we comprehended his hand gestures, and ran for it. the tank fell right into our trap. he charged the building thinking there were enemies in it. he smashed through the first wall, moments later, we heard two loud explosions. as the house shook to the beat of two violent shocks the lead tank’s weight caused the supports to fail, as planned. the tank fell into the basement. three stories of debris fell onto the tank. as the dust cleared, we saw more tanks. at least now they were maneuvering around the buildings, as planned, making them slower. either way, Stalingrad was lost. unless we could take it back. fat chance. we fell back to the last defendable line that was emplaced. we were all breathing the sour air like it was our last night in Russia. we all prepared for the worst. the russians were doing something clever. they had speakers blaring surrender terms. some of the men under the general’s command went for it. they were going to pick life over a terrible death. they were shot immediately. then it drew quiet. real quiet, grenade-beside-your-ear-quiet. suddenly, our nightmare became full-on HELL. we heard poof-booms in the distance, then harpy screams, everyone was scrambling for cover, we were struck with awe. to us hardened veterans, those katyushas were just more doom bringers of everyday war. the screams did not bother us. we were so calm, we all took a light. titan was reluctant to not run, but he looked up to us. we knew when those rockets would hit their targets. when the sound got really close and stopped they would land and detonate half a second later. well we seemed to be role models for our entire garrison. they looked at us like we were crazy. we had a sense of, how you say “style”. as the screams grew closer, we casually walked away. everyone that had taken, never stood a chance. this time, it was on the general of the garrison. for two reasons. he was the last high-ranking officer left, and he has seen these rocket massacres before. once in the first wave of Russia and, later, in the mid-point between there and Stalingrad. he gave no orders, he froze like a dead man, which he soon became. we had no plan, we just dropped our gear, put our memorabilia (patches, ranks, and other memorable articles) we had no white flag. we just walked ,unarmed, across an active zone. we were living, not retreating. the two sides exchanged fire, our men covering us, the russians covering their prisoners. everyone we seemed to see was falling into black, free of the curse that was indeed a war.