In the Austrian Alps there existed a large military base where thousands of conscripts worked together to pass their basic training. A young man, no older than eighteen, was doing pushups while dressed in his feldgrau fatigues, along with the rest of his unit.
Manfred Krause was a young man from Austria, who had recently concluded his time in high school, as well as the German Cadet Corps. Now he was nothing more than just another cog in the German War machine, fulfilling his mandatory service, like all other young men had to do.
As Manfred continued to engage in the physical exercise, he heard the shouting of his drill instructor, who was screaming at another conscript.
"You unbelievable fat sack of shit, when I was your age, we had nothing to eat but a single roll of bread a day. How on earth did you manage to get so fucking huge, you lard ass land whale? You are an utter disgrace to the fatherland. Look at those around you. They are effortlessly doing this exercise because they have trained their entire lives for this. If you do not fulfill my quota of pushups today, I will have you scrubbing the latrines with your toothbrush. Do you understand me, private?"
There were practically tears in the eyes of the heavyset fellow as he heard these words. He was by no means morbidly obese. In fact, he wasn't all that big, at least not when compared to the American people during Berengar's past life.
However, in the Reich, where discipline, exercise, and martial training were the virtues of all men, to have anything other than a six-pack was to be considered fat. Maintaining such a physique was more difficult for some than others, and this young conscript simply liked his beer and hot wings a bit too much. Because of that, his muscles were not clearly defined like everyone else.
Despite the insults hurled at him, the conscript endured, and responded to the drill instructor with an enthusiasm that Manfred struggled to comprehend just where the man had conjured it from.
"Yes, sir!"
After this brief incident, the physical training continued for some time, before Manfred and the others were lined up at the firing line and issued their training rifles. Like most soldiers of the German Army were issued, these training rifles were modelled after the Fg-42 from Berengar's past life.
After loading the 20 round box magazine into the side of the gun, Manfred aimed down his sights and pulled the trigger. The bipod stabilized the weapon, allowing for much easier hits on the steel plates, which sat at a distance of roughly one hundred meters.
Having hit all his targets in a sufficient amount of time, Manfred was scored fairly for his shooting capabilities, where he and the rest of the men continued on their daily routine. After all their work was done for the day, Manfred arrived at the mess hall, where he saw the 'fat' man eating all alone. After careful consideration, he took his tray of food and sat down next to the guy while introducing himself.
"I'm Manfred Krause. What's your name?"
The 'fat' man looked up from his tray of food and gave Manfred one glance before staring at his plate again. He responded in a rather dejected manner as he did so.
"Wolfgang... Wolfgang Bergmann."
Upon getting a name, Manfred smiled and tried to ease his way into a friendly conversation. He honestly felt bad for the guy after what he went through earlier in the day. Thus, he had opted to befriend the man on a whim.
"So, what job did you sign up for? I'm a Panzer crewman. Personally, I want to ride into battle in one of those new Panther tanks, you know the model B? I hear they have a sighting system that allows them to see in the dead of night? Isn't that awesome?"
When Wolfgang heard this, he was pleasantly surprised. At first, he thought Manfred was being an annoyance, but after learning that they both had the same job, he suddenly became more interested in the conversation. Thus, he was quick to respond with a rather enthusiastic tone in his voice.
"Really? Huh, I thought I was the only one in our unit. It's nice to see there's a guy I can rely on who isn't just another numbskull with a rifle."
Manfred chuckled when he heard these words. It was true that there were alot of men in this camp who wanted nothing more than to rush into machine gun fire with a rifle in hand at some vain shot of glory.The infantry was never lacking in those wished to enter its service.
However, in Manfred's opinion, it took a more cultured man to operate a panzer, and thus, he felt something akin to a bond forming between him and Wolfgang. With this in mind, he expressed good intention to the man before continuing to eat his meal.
"Well, I hope we end up in the same unit."
With a simple nod of his head, Wolfgang silently expressed the same sentiment.
While Wolfgang and Manfred shared a meal together within the mess hall, another group of German conscripts were training on the sea outside Trieste. These men weren't going through basic, but rather their specialized training, which consisted of learning how to operate a German U-boat.
One man in particular was eyeing the sonar as the U-boat and its crew slipped beneath the surface of the Mediterranean. For their mission, they would be making a short journey outside Gibraltar, where they would intercept a dummy target and destroy it with their torpedos.
The Type I U-boat was modelled after the late war Type XXI submarine with some much needed upgrades. It was a submarine that was designed to operate primarily under water, and as a result it could go several days beneath the surface without ever revealing itself.
As the sonar operator watched his device closely, he noticed a few blips appear, which he was quick to report to the commander.
"Sir, there appears to be a small fleet of what I presume to be wooden merchant ships approximately two hundred clicks to the west. We are quickly approaching them. What are your orders?"
The commander of the submarine simply scoffed before giving his orders to the crew. There was a hint of arrogance in his gruff voice as he did so.
"Maintain our current speed and depth. As long as we are not on a course for collision, you do not need to report your findings to me. Continue as you were."
With a slight sigh, the sonar technician accepted his orders. Upon seeing how the man's overeagerness was rejected so swiftly by their commanding officer, a nearby sailor patted the man on the back before attempting to cheer him up.
"Relax, Reiner, you don't need to be so uptight. I know we're underwater, but these things are pretty solid. There has yet to be an incident regarding a submarine sinking."
Reiner Schulze took a deep breath and sighed in relief upon hearing this. When he first heard about the existence of submarines, he had become fascinated with them. However, now that he was actually inside of one, he felt as if his stomach was twisted into a hefty knot.
It turns out that exploring the depths of the Mediterranean, let alone the world's oceans, was a lot more terrifying than the man had thought it would be. He was not alone in this regard, as the man who comforted him appeared to also be sweating bullets, which Reiner was quick to joke about.
"You alright there Klaus? You don't seem to be faring any better than me..."
Despite being visibly anxious, Klaus chuckled, and laughed off Reiner's attempts to console him as if they were one giant joke.
"Me? I'm fine. It's you I'm worried about."
The two men shared a brief laugh before going about their business. Their slight interaction helped calm one another's nerves, even if they were not willing to outright admit how terrified they truly were at this moment.