When it came to sniffing out rebellious sentiment and breaking the will of the local population to fight. There was perhaps nobody better in this world than Oberst Erich von Humboldt. Having previously been leading Bruno’s stormtroopers into battle, the man now found himself operating within Central Powers’ controlled Balkan territory.
His objective was to bring the Paramilitary orthodox groups that were causing chaos within the borders of the Austro-Hungarian Empire to heel. He and his men were dressed in distinctive Austro-Hungarian uniforms, and were equipped with the latest weapons the nation had fielded.
Whether that be the semi -automatic converted Mannlichers, or the domestically produced hellrigel submachine gun that had recently begun to enter service among specialized Austro-Hungarian units.
These men were pure Austrian through and through, including the dialect of German which they spoke. Being led by a Prussian was not the ideal situation for them, but Erich’s ability to hunt down the enemy, and eliminate them with retaliation so fierce he broke their spirit of resistance entirely had earned the respect of these so called Death Squads.
Currently, Erich was standing in a village located within the Kosovo region. He was knocking on a door as politely as a man like him was bound to do. And when the door opened the occupant was surprised to see Austro-Hungarian soldiers standing in their doorway.
But before the men beneath Erich’s command could properly advance forward and apprehend the suspect who had revealed himself within the doorway of his own home. Erich was quick to make a comment with a wicked sneer on his face.
Among all the armed men present ,he was the only one not wearing a helmet, instead wearing an Austrian field cap as he made his intentions known to the man he was staring in the eyes of.
“Let me make this abundantly clear. We know who you are, we know what group you are a part of. Your entire village is surrounded by enough artillery to level it into oblivion along with everyone who lives in it.
Surrender yourself and your comrades, and your families shall be spared judgement. If you resist, we will open fire with all the firepower his majesty’s Royal Army can muster. If you try to escape, we will gun you down from behind without mercy.
And if you manage to kill one of my men, I will personally be taking your daughter’s chastity here in front of you before slitting her throat with my bayonet. Surrender peacefully, and all of this madness can be spared. Those are your only options…”
The Islamic militant stumbled over his words, hesitant on what to say, that is until Erich pulled his sidearm out of his holster and pointed it to the man’s head, pulling back the hammer on his m1912 steyr hahn which already had a round in the chamber.
His tone was curt and chilling as he issued one final warning.
“I am not a patient man. You have three seconds to decide before I fire a shot in the air and signal the bombardment to begin… 3…. 2…. –”
The moment Erich was about to finish his sentence the Militant quickly fell to his knees and gave Erich the answer he desired.
“I swear! I swear unto the prophet himself! I will give you everything you need and turn myself in! Just spare my family!”
Erich quickly stashed his weapon away, as he nodded his head in a way that signaled his soldiers to apprehend the militant in front of them. After doing so, the man was dragged off, interrogated for the required information, before being shot in the head and buried outside the small town along with all of his fellow partisans.
Having witnessed the lengths that the Central Powers were willing to go to, especially with Bruno’s massacre of Belgrade, Erich’s empty threats worked 8/10 times he tried it. After all, though, Bruno’s words were to condemn war crimes and the men who conducted them beneath his operational authority.
These words were mostly spread among the Central Powers and their soldiers. The enemy who usually hid in rural villages had little means to learn of these orders, or the actions Bruno had previously taken to enact justice of war criminals within his ranks.
This was how Bruno’s mad dog eliminated the threats that had manifested themselves to Habsburg rule over the Balkans in this new life. And it was quite effective. For the 2/10 times the strategy did not work, they were forced to drag people out of their homes, search them for arms caches and any other evidence, and in doing so often engage in firefights with the locals.
Either way, the Guerillas of the Balkans, whether they be of the Orthodox faith, or the Islamic, were quickly being dispatched to their maker.
—
While the flames of rebellion had begun to become extinguished within the Balkans, the same could not be said for the lands under Ottoman Control. The Arab Revolt was at its peak, and Maximilian currently stood by the side of the Great Arab leader Faisal I, or should I say sat by his side as both were seated on the backs of camels.
Rifles were in their hands, given to them by the German Reich for the purpose of waging war. Having given the Arab rebels certain promises which Bruno hoped would prevent many of the conflicts that emerged following the second world war as a result of treaties that were poorly thought out in regards to the Arab world.
Bruno had no qualms about giving these men access to weapons that were current issue to the German Army. Whether that was Gewehr 43 semi-automatic rifles, Mp-34 Submachine guns, or Mg-34 general purpose machine guns. Hell, there were even some 60mm lightweight mortars, and 80mm mortars included with the exchange.
And the Arab rebels had not disappointed Bruno in the slightest, using these advanced weapons to make life a living hell for the Ottoman Army wherever one found them. It did not take a military genius to understand that hit-and-run tactics were lethal to any occupying force.
And the Arab rebels were one of the few forces in the world capable of attacking a rail way, or trade post before fucking off back into the desert never to be heard from again until they chose the time and place to once more reveal themselves.
Today was not different, as the Arab rebels had used the harshness of the terrain within the relatively uncivilized portions of the Sinai Peninsula to conceal their advance onto the single most important waterway in the world.
The Suez Canal had been fortified for obvious reason by the British Empire, and nobody within the ranks of the Garrison sitting idly by to protect it ever actually thought that somebody would dare make an attempt to seize it.
But that was exactly what happened on this day, as Faisal signaled the command to attack. Whether it was the mortars, or the 75mm field guns dragged by the Camels within the army of tribesmen, the attack was both sudden and explosive as the British soldiers ran to their posts with weapons in hand.
Watching as thousands of mounted men rushed towards their positions, firing rifles, submachine guns, and general purpose machine guns alike, shouldered in one arm, while the reins of the steed were in the other.
For the Mg-34s, some men sat on the same camel, with the man in the rear resting the gun on the rider’s shoulder, firing off lethal bursts at the enemy who had been caught unawares. Though the British defenders tried to call for aid, it was too late.
By the time reinforcements arrived, the canal would have been seized by the Arab rebels, and secured by the German Navy. Or at least those forces capable enough of sinking any attempt at the Allied Fleets might have to take it back.
After all was said and done, Maximilian would stand by the side of King Faisal and gaze upon the destruction they had wrought upon the enemy. The man himself having fired more than a few of the shots that had killed the British soldiers here and now.
At first, only silence remained between the two of them, that is until Maximilian finally spoke, his hands trembling, having never actually personally killed a man until today.
“So this is what it is like….”
The only words which Faisal spoke were to the fallen, his fallen, the fallen of the enemy, he said a silent prayer, as he recognized that they were in the hands of God now before turning to Maximilian and letting him know that he would be alright.
“Time has a way of healing all wounds. Before long, you won’t even think about what you did here, or what you will do in the coming days. Though this has been a mortal blow to the stability of the Ottoman Empire, this war is far from over.
And I will need you by my side as we continue to destroy our enemies together…. You are up to the task, yes?”
Gazing down at the rifle in his hands, and the highly decorated Jambiya tied to his waist, Maximilian’s grip suddenly became solid as he looked up to the heavens above before turning back to the Arab leader, confirming both with his words and his gaze that he was indeed ready to do what needed to be done.
“I am yours to command…”