The Colonel

just let me bite you a little

send "you're just like your father..." for my muse's reaction to yours saying that.

Not to couch them, how amusing. This Colonel certainly knew his way around words; he was even less diplomatic than Ivushkin. Although Comrade Yartseva would disagree with him, Colonel Jäger acted accordingly given all that had transpired. Giving a brief smile, Ivushkin embraced the solid hand. The Colonel must grip the levers and controls of tanks firmly to build his strength. “Before sundown, I hear you, sir.” Ivushkin released his hand and stepped back to allow him the courtesy of walking ahead. He followed afterward, and all the cadets straightened at the sight of their Junior Lieutenant, accompanied by the Colonel. Ivushkin didn't even need to shout for them to get themselves together, which filled him with pride. After all, they are Russians. Come sunset, when the sun hadn’t yet dipped below the horizon, preparations got underway. Ivushkin had mentioned his intentions to Captain Korin late in the day, but the Captain seemed surprisingly open to the idea—a rare occurrence. What Colonel Jäger said was also true; The Colonel had not informed Captain Korin about their earlier incident. However, his men tended to talk, and his Captain had ears, so the news would eventually reach him. For now, Ivushkin could entertain his Captain with witty suggestions and hurry him up to the watchtower while he himself headed off to rally his men. He was well aware that he wasn’t going to attend this training course for the green men, but he had to give them morale and confidence before they were slaughtered in the arena of lions and tigers. The Germans had always loved their big cats, it seemed. It was his idea to throw them into the ring this early; it was also his duty to ensure they wouldn’t feel as if their efforts were fruitless. As he arrived at the scene, the growling of tank engines and loud chatter of men told him to slow his pace. His own crew was disqualified from this first round of training, as his crew was brought from the front, as was he. If he were to be stuck in the tower, then their Merciless come again would be forced to remain in the motor pool. Everything was set into motion smoothly, though some cadets' faces showed signs of being shaken by the fast-paced start of training. This was a good sign; they needed to be ready by the month before a new batch arrived. As the Colonel mentioned, his own tanks hadn’t been seen. Not a single life-form showed over the training field; the cadets must be thinking it’s a play-round with firing empty shells and facing off each other in their brand new, shiny beasts. That was also good. “Солдаты, смирно!” Like ants, they climbed down from their tanks and stood in a single line, with all three crews positioned in front of their assigned tanks. Ivushkin walked the lines, eyeing all of them. Snow had begun piling on top of the still tanks, and each step he took crunched the white powder under his boot. Keeping his voice level, he began. “Вы будете испытаны. Ваш разум, ваше тело, то, как вы сражаетесь бок о бок со своим товарищем, все это будет проверено. Ваша задача—не быть дисквалифицированным и не погубить свой экипаж. Немцы уже испытывали нас как врагов. Мы победили их. Они будут испытывать вас как союзников, а вы будете побеждать их как врагов. Они вам не друзья. Они хотят убить вас, они хотят, чтобы ваш товарищ погиб рядом с вами. Они хотят уничтожить вас. Относитесь к этому так, как будто вы не возвращаетесь домой. С яростью и ненавистью к врагу, презирая смерть, я клянусь растоптать врага в его собственном логове.” Ivushkin turned to them at the end of the line, watching their faces harden. A ring of shouts exploded upon his "К бою". All eager men, pulling a smile on his face as he left them.

Upon spotting the Colonel coming down the high steps, Nikolay drew up his arm and saluted, his heels clicking at the sides. Despite being an officer who held certain views about officers higher than he, Nikolay didn’t lack basic forms of respect. He lowered his arm when the Colonel came closer, turning on his heel so that the Colonel didn’t have to stop while speaking to him. Ivushkin fixed over his gloves in silence, only nodding in response to the question. Ivushkin adjusted his gloves in silence, nodding in response to the Colonel's question. In truth, it wasn't the preparation of the tanks that took the longest. The T-80s were newly manufactured; the bolts hadn’t even had time to rust yet. The crew knew how to handle their tasks efficiently. No, the real time was spent not on the physical preparation but on thinking—Ivushkin himself had taken that time to reflect, turning over ideas and discussing them with Anya, who had a more diplomatic perspective. He had to agree with her on her ideas, and he was using up the synced walk he had with the Colonel to gather up his words without making a bigger mess. He just got here; if this Colonel is like the ones he’s dealt with, then it’s best to simply appease them for as long as possible. It’d be best for his men—he can hear Anya’s voice in his head, ringing and nagging. The Colonel’s voice pulled Ivushkin from his thoughts, although it didn’t seem so on his face. He only stared forward, turning his head slightly to show that he was listening. While he was pushing his gloves between his finger webbings, he pressed his thumb onto his palm and kept it there, humming in response to buy time. So Jäger hadn’t told anything to Korin—this made Ivushkin actually give Jäger his eyes for a split moment. That was merciful on his part; Ivushkin would give him that. Before reaching the motor pool where the sounds of his men boomed with work, Nikolay stopped and cleared his throat to speak. “Sir, I need to speak with you. Not in front of them.”Ivushkin tilted his head, gesturing for them to come closer and step away from the tanks they had reached. He then sighed through his nose as he looked over at the motor pool. If this colonel is as skilled as Moscow and all of East Germany say he is, then he’s the only one capable of guiding his cadets through the challenges ahead. He is the only one who can provide them with the type of experience he wouldn’t wish on his worst enemy— even if that enemy is a pompous officer with shiny shoulder pads. Ivushkin turned his attention back to Jäger and lifted his head, the bruise still fresh and his jaw aching from movement. “I apologize for the actions come over me; I intend not to stir our parties apart. I did not ask your attention for that,” Ivushkin inhaled the cold air and let it form the remainder of his speech. “They are new—the cadets. Trained on fake guns, half-made tanks in class. Confident, good, but too highly prideful in themselves. I see it, and it must be beaten down.” Nikolay lowered his head briefly to show respect to the higher-ranking man. “You are a skilled man, my country says. My translator said you desired to attend these trainings yourself. I’m here to ask you a favor; be in today’s training.” He then gestured to the crews and their tanks quickly, watching them become impatient in their idle state of waiting for their Commander. “ Give them a taste of raw experience. Do the worst on them. Crush their spirits, I can rebuild them— but it is easier to build something ruined than make it come down when it’s got too high an ego.” Ivushkin turned his eyes to the Colonel, offering his gloved hand as a trade— a truce from previous collisions. Nikolay could put aside the dislike if it meant winning a war. 

hatred that morphs to obsession that morphs to devotion. is this anything

(emerges 3 hours later covered in blood) i figured out what emotion i was feeling

As Ivushkin was mid-speech to his men, the damned Colonel decided the white flag hasn’t been risen high enough to count. Ivushkin’s words died into frost in the air, earning only attention to those who could’ve heard it. Suppressing his indignation at the act, he turned his head to look over his shoulder at the other man. Then, he realized that wasn’t noble of him—considering Jäger’s ranks—and turned his body fully to face Jäger. He didn’t stand at attention to avoid showing too much respect, but his posture was enough to demonstrate to his men how to address even the worst of individuals. They would encounter far worse in their own battles; the Russian commanders were not the paragons they were meant to uphold. Every war hardens a man, yet the strongest among them choose to retain their humanity. That is the only way to determine if a man is truly a man. The man before him was only half of one, and even that was an exaggeration. Regardless, he raised his chin in a gesture that would encourage the other to speak. It seemed that the Colonel didn’t like distance; like a magnet, he was pulled closer to Ivushkin. Did he think he was poor at hearing? He sustained some loss of it in his career, but he could still make out Colonel even if he spoke. Ivushkin let him have it, but he couldn’t do that for long. Ivushkin didn’t let much escape his frigid inscrutability; the slight twitch of his eyebrow couldn’t help but escape. He could hear shuffling behind him, as if the words were understood not just by him, but he didn’t look back. Colonel had a look in his eyes that suggested he understood the game he was playing and was determined not to lose it.  He was just pressing buttons, trying to figure out which throttle fires the turret, that’s all. Nikolay chose to keep the burn and boil suppressed, however difficult it was. It proved to be quite, as his words came out without premeditating them. Walking to the Colonel in the same fearless steps the Colonel had, Ivushkin didn’t shrink from the man’s impending shadow. “Don’t come near him. If you think he left snow in your shiny boots, forget it.” Even if he knew that what he said was incorrect or too direct, he would have said it anyway because it carried its meaning. There was no reason to latch onto those who had done nothing than stood victim of Colonel’s path of blame. He’s known Ivan, and he would rather face the tank’s turret than mess with a high rank. Anya tried to step forward to smooth over his words, but Nikolay glared her into stillness as soon as he saw her open her mouth on the sidelines, much like an older brother desiring the little ones not to make the situation worse. He stood his ground in front of the man, a little daring with how he stared into Jägers eyes. “Leave my men to me, Fritz”. An old word often talked about the Germans, it was a wound in the Second World War. Ivushkin didn’t care to order a high rank, never had one. It made him end up in low places, but his men’s morale and respect for him mattered more. What Colonel asked wasn’t just a question; it was a threat. And if he’s anything like the commanders out there in the field, he’d challenge orders before submitting to what needs to be. He looked down with his eyes and slightly stepped on Colonel’s boot tip, coating it with flakes of snow. He then looked up with his eyes, the hoods slimmer and eyebrows furrowed. A wordless comment on how idiotic the complaint was.  

In the blink of an eye—that’s how fast it all happened. From the forward motion of the Colonel’s arm to the intense pressure blooming around Ivushkin’s jaw. Ivushkin has taken many hits to his face in his career, but this one surely stands out above the rest. This only indicated that beneath all the shine and dark fabric, the man was incredibly muscular. It was more evident with his Hauptmann; he would hate to imagine the strength that man possessed if the Colonel was anything like him. Despite this discomfort, Ivushkin remained undaunted. Bruising would paint his jawline where Colonel’s fingernails dug into it, and he could already feel his teeth grinding against each other as they were jammed into each other—and Ivushkin still maintained eye contact with Colonel. His eyes only became narrower, allowing very little to be seen of his eyes, considering they were already slits to begin with. The squeeze of Colonel’s hand began creating a ringing within his ears, to the point he could hardly make out what he was saying, but he guessed it was reestablishing himself as an authority figure and not someone to be given commands by. The only part of it was that Jäger was in the right. Ivushkin’s men might as well be considered his own, which meant he could command and punish them as he wished. However, Jäger didn’t know or understand them as well as Ivushkin did. This became evident when shuffling was heard among his line of tankers. In response, Ivushkin raised his hand to signal them to remain calm. For the time being, he was content to dangle at Jäger’s feet as it was better than placing a burden on some poor soldier. When Ivushkin was released at last and Jäger retreated with a fiery boot, the shuffling of boots commenced, and a senior man peered into Ivushkin’s face. A mustache lined the top of his lip, a tanker helmet covering his head as opposed to Ivushkin’s officer ushanka. Ivushkin only waved his hand in dismissal to the older man, opting to adjust his jaw to ensure it wasn’t broken. The man seemed to be the only brave one to disobey Ivushkin’s command to stand back, but that didn’t mean the others didn’t want to come forward to their commander. “Ты в порядке, Койла?” The senior man asked. “Давай почистим эти Танки прежде чем мне понадобится замена челюсти, Степан.” That’s exactly what was done. In about two hours, the entire company of tanks was thoroughly cleaned of grime and grease, much to the mechanics' satisfaction. However, the downside is that this cleanliness won’t last long, as Ivushkin wants these soldiers and tanks operational today. He had an idea for achieving his goal, but it required smoothing things over with the Colonel. His jaw still ached to the point that he had to rely on hand signals to command his company. After talking with Anya, he decided it would be wiser to proceed in this way, even after what happened. If this incident found its way back to Captain Korin—if it hasn’t already—his career might end where he stands. And so, he made his amenable stride to meet the Colonel halfway from the tank storage, assuming he kept his word about being on time this time. The thought made Ivushkin snort, but he suppressed it instantly. 

Something something Klaus Jäger //

As Ivushkin was mid-speech to his men, the damned Colonel decided the white flag hasn’t been risen high enough to count. Ivushkin’s words died into frost in the air, earning only attention to those who could’ve heard it. Suppressing his indignation at the act, he turned his head to look over his shoulder at the other man. Then, he realized that wasn’t noble of him—considering Jäger’s ranks—and turned his body fully to face Jäger. He didn’t stand at attention to avoid showing too much respect, but his posture was enough to demonstrate to his men how to address even the worst of individuals. They would encounter far worse in their own battles; the Russian commanders were not the paragons they were meant to uphold. Every war hardens a man, yet the strongest among them choose to retain their humanity. That is the only way to determine if a man is truly a man. The man before him was only half of one, and even that was an exaggeration. Regardless, he raised his chin in a gesture that would encourage the other to speak. It seemed that the Colonel didn’t like distance; like a magnet, he was pulled closer to Ivushkin. Did he think he was poor at hearing? He sustained some loss of it in his career, but he could still make out Colonel even if he spoke. Ivushkin let him have it, but he couldn’t do that for long. Ivushkin didn’t let much escape his frigid inscrutability; the slight twitch of his eyebrow couldn’t help but escape. He could hear shuffling behind him, as if the words were understood not just by him, but he didn’t look back. Colonel had a look in his eyes that suggested he understood the game he was playing and was determined not to lose it.  He was just pressing buttons, trying to figure out which throttle fires the turret, that’s all. Nikolay chose to keep the burn and boil suppressed, however difficult it was. It proved to be quite, as his words came out without premeditating them. Walking to the Colonel in the same fearless steps the Colonel had, Ivushkin didn’t shrink from the man’s impending shadow. “Don’t come near him. If you think he left snow in your shiny boots, forget it.” Even if he knew that what he said was incorrect or too direct, he would have said it anyway because it carried its meaning. There was no reason to latch onto those who had done nothing than stood victim of Colonel’s path of blame. He’s known Ivan, and he would rather face the tank’s turret than mess with a high rank. Anya tried to step forward to smooth over his words, but Nikolay glared her into stillness as soon as he saw her open her mouth on the sidelines, much like an older brother desiring the little ones not to make the situation worse. He stood his ground in front of the man, a little daring with how he stared into Jägers eyes. “Leave my men to me, Fritz”. An old word often talked about the Germans, it was a wound in the Second World War. Ivushkin didn’t care to order a high rank, never had one. It made him end up in low places, but his men’s morale and respect for him mattered more. What Colonel asked wasn’t just a question; it was a threat. And if he’s anything like the commanders out there in the field, he’d challenge orders before submitting to what needs to be. He looked down with his eyes and slightly stepped on Colonel’s boot tip, coating it with flakes of snow. He then looked up with his eyes, the hoods slimmer and eyebrows furrowed. A wordless comment on how idiotic the complaint was.