Realistic or Modern The Past That Isn't Ours - 1v1 Version

[Stricken Steel]

The Past That Isn't Ours

October-6th-2025

The sound of four seperate Rolls-Royce turboprop engines rumbled as the aircraft sped down the strip with the help of a brand-new JATO launch system in order to reduce the amount of time needed to take off.
"...And we have lift-off!" The Pilot radioed before the AC-130 took off. The gears were pulled up and they were on the way to assist a convoy that was being attacked by ISIS troops.
"...This is Echo-Golf, We need that support now! We're halfway to being overrun!" The radio crackled before the WSO turned on his headset's mic.
"Echo-Golf, This is Warhammer. Be patient, We are at full speed and will arrive at your location in the next five minutes." The Pilot, Senior Airman Charlie Smith as well as his co-pilot (and best friend) WSO, Second-Lieutenant Jake Hamilton. Airman Hamilton has dirty blond hair and light blue eyes, and He was most likely from Europe. Officer Smith, however, was just a guy that joined the Air Force as a Weapons Officer and everyone knew he was from Brooklyn.
"Echo-Golf, This is Warhammer we are-" The Pilot was cut off when the aircraft seemingly lost control and every single window and screen was now shining white light into the eyes of the crew members. The gunship shook violently as the pilot tried to keep the aircraft steady, before the sky got dark and stormy...fast.
"What?" Hamilton spoke with reluctance with what had just happened. "How did it get dark so quick? It was mid-day when we took off!" Smith said before asking the rest of the crew if they were ok and if the systems were still operational.
"All Clear!" Came a feminine voice.
"What the hell just happened, Hamilton?" The WSO asked the Pilot.

Little to their knowledge, They have traveled back into the year 1950. The Second World War rages on, and this gunship crew has a chance to change this history before it gets worse.

Jackson123 ​

 

[Jackson123]

6th October, 1950

With the rising sun at its back, a jet powered aircraft slowly lowered its altitude and flew towards the runway.

The nose of the Me262 was raised proudly, looking like an intimidating eagle from the front. Flaps deployed, and the tricycle landing gear are gracefully lowered.

It’s the latest developed HG.III variant of the Schwalbe, just finishing it’s yet another scheduled flight test before it officially enter service. Most distinct are the new wing-fuselage blending technology from developing Ho-229, incorporating the swept wings with the twin Junkers engines, which improves it’s aerodynamic enough to allow the jet fighter to go even faster.



The golden morning light glistening at the edge of it’s dark wings as the Schwalbe swept across the field, aligning its axis with the grey runway of the airfield. The touch down was soft, and the plane slowly taxied to the location as designated by the ground crew.

The pilot, 28 year old Leutnant Günther Hoffmann let out a sigh of relief after he opens the canopy. The ground crew immediately surrounded the Schwalbe, a tank truck was driven next to the aircraft for refuelling process.




“Gute Arbeit, Herr Leutnant!” One of the ground crew member that came around his brand new aircraft had climb to the side of his cockpit before handing him a small cup of hot beverage.

“Danke.” Hoffmann replied simply before taking the cup. The salty taste surprised him, as he was expecting coffee, but instead it’s actually chicken soup.

“Leutnant Hoffmann!” out of the blue, a staff officer from the Geschwaderstab came up to him. “Radar had intercepted an enemy recon plane, he’s flying single. And Kommodore think you might want to eh, test out our new toy on a real target.”

“A recon plane? This far into the fatherland?”

“Ja, super unusual. But now that the Yanks decided to show up, it would be most impolite of our Luftwaffe to not throw him a welcoming party that he’ll never forget.”

The Schwalbe once again took off into the sky, the twin jet engines provides it with a powerful push unimaginable for the old 109 Hoffmann used to fly when he was in the “Luftflotte Reich”. The engines leaves a vapour trails streaks across the clear blue sky, the weather is just ideal for flying.

Hoffmann spotted the enemy recon plane. He recognises the four prop engine configuration, could it be a Flying Fortress? strange, he thought to himself. B-17 indeed used to fly over Germany numbering in thousands, but ever since Britain surrendered, Germany became out of reach for the B-17’s operational range. These days, it’s usually the six engined B-36 that he would intercepts, rumour has it that the Americans are using Azores island as their forward operating base now.

Upon flying closer, he notice the shape of this aircraft's fuselage is different from B-17. Perhaps it’s a new aircraft, Hoffmann thought, a new type of four engine bomber that could make intercontinental flight?

He slightly adjust his control stick towards the intercept course he calculated in his mind, the four 30mm auto-canon mounted on the Schwalbe are armed and ready for action. Although they’re only loaded with training rounds, the kinetic energy would still be enough to shatter a fighter, if nothing else perhaps he could at least scare the recon plane away.

 

[Stricken Steel]

Hamilton and Smith talked quietly as the crew prepared to go back to base. "We haven't seen anything, and the skies are yet a little darker than usual." Hamilton spoke as he stared off into the skies ahead. Smith then noticed something about the GPS, The screen was acting out so he hit it once. The GPS screen returned to normal and shown the current co-ords using advanced 'Quantum Positioning". It was reading something in german, and both the pilots simply shrugged away to think as if the device was broken.
The gunship continued flying forwards as it normally would, until a 'Blip' was heard from the radar. "What was that?" Smith asked as his WSO checked the radar. "Bogey, 6'o clock and coming in fast!" Shit, Hamilton mouthed. The WSO turned his chair around to face the weapons and countermeasure controls. Turning on the back camera on the belly of the gunship, he saw something unexpected.
A slick-shaped jet-like aircraft was approaching them from the six, Yet it looked somewhat familiar to the old F4 Phantoms Iraq still used. The AI in the camera tried it's best to determine what shape and model aircraft it was, yet failed.
"Captain, Turn around now." Smith spoke before telling the rest of the crew to buckle up. The AC-130 veered to the left quickly, before making a full-on retreat. "I'll ready up an AGM if things get worse."

Jackson123 ​

 

[Jackson123]

Hoffmann did a final check on his gun and adjust the reflector sight as he approach the enemy recon plane.

From inside his cockpit, Hoffmann could now see the enemy plane with more details. He can almost be certain this is a new aircraft at this point, looks to be larger than a B-17 but not by much, four propeller engines, he can see the insignia of the newly formed USAF contrasting the light grey body of the aircraft, but those alternating black and white bands paint the allied called "Invasion Stripes" that Luftwaffe pilots almost always use to identify targets after 1944 cannot be seen on this plane.

At this point, there's a lot of things about this interception that seem out of place in Hoffmann's mind.

He saw the enemy recon plane veered off to the left and makes an 180, trying to "hightail it out of here" as the American would say.

Hoffmann pulls up the nose of the Me 262, he was using his experience from attack B-17 formations on this plane. If it's a new type of plane, then he's almost completely in the dark about their defensive armament and their blindspots.

But he knew for B-17 it's best to attack from their top, unlike the ball turret on the bottom, the top turret of those B-17 cannot elevate 90 degrees vertically. There is a singular, upwards facing M2 just in front of the tail to be wary of, but they are at least far less deadly than other angles.

He would never in his wildest dream imagine the American would build a plane with guns only mounted to the left side of their fuselage.

He had his Me 262 flew to almost 1500 ft above the target aircraft, before he did a half loop and see the enemy plane now 'above' his canopy, holding on to the stick with both his hand, he charge down by pulling the Schwalbe's nose up, he's planning to disengage with a Split S manoeuver after the strafing run. The yanks recon plane grows rapidly larger in his sight, before he squeeze both firing button on his control stick. The Me 262 tremble at the recoil of the quad 30mm MK213 revolver canon, and he see the canon shell hit along the fuselage of the light grey aircraft, before he swerves around to avoid a collision.

 

[Stricken Steel]

"Oh shit." Smith remarks before a deep and violent sounding thumping fills the ears of every crew member on the aircraft.
"Don't worry. If it's smaller than 37millimeter, Then they can't get through. If they were to strafe the cockpit though, that'd be a final for us. I'm going to try and contact base, see if we can get through." Hamilton says before adjusting the radio channel.
"Bagrams Air Force Base, This is Warhammer of the 4th Special Operations Squadron on all frequencies. Weapon Systems Officer of the AC-130J Ghostrider gunship. We are taking fire, I repeat, We are being fired upon! Get us an F-35 or F-16 fighter now!"
There was no reply, except for the static.
"Bagrams AFB, This is Warhammer. Please respond We are taking heavy cannon fire and need back-up, I repeat, We need back-up now!"
The same thing.
"DAMNIT!" Hamilton cursed before adjusting his headset again. "Smith, I want you to tilt us to one side, I'm going to try and fire an AGM at him...If it works."
"Yessir." The pilot tilted the gunship's wings to where the right wing was almost pointing downwards. The WSO activated an Infrared laser and locked it onto the strange jet aircraft, trying to keep it straight.
"Launching Griffin." Hamilton spoke, before pressing a button on the control panel ahead of him.
In the belly of the large 4-engined gunship, A panel would open up and a laser-controlled missile would fly out and chase the jet.
"Let's watch the fireworks." A crew member remarked as they watched from a tiny window in the side of the aircraft.

Jackson123
​

 

[Stricken Steel]

Madeira Base, Madeira Island

A solid man in his early 40s puffed out circles of smoke as the Lieutenant in front of him spoke. It was always the same. They lost tanks here and squadrons there, Things would never change.
The rumble of a Jeep outside the fan-cooled tent shut-off before a Marine stepped in waving papers and hollering. "Sir! Commander, Sir! Good news!" The Marine spoke quickly, almost out of breath before giving a proper salute.
"Good news? Are you sure Marine?" Commander Ebony looked up at the US Marine, his light blue eyes almost piercing the man. "Yes sir! We were able to intercept some transmissions from the Jerrys, and you won't believe this." The young Marine handed Commander Ebony the papers.
The Commander snatched the papers and gazed at them before reading aloud,
"...2:37 PM, Large aircraft was detected over Cologne, Germany. Aircraft appeared on Radar systems. Aircraft at a maximum of at least 7,000 feet, Unusual appearance. USAF Heavy Bomber, Four engined aircraft. All gunners are stationed on the left side near belly, strange small capsules noted as well. Sent jet-fighter to intercept. Pilot's let out a distress call in English..."
The man stopped reading before the Marine chimed in. "Sir, It's not ours. Nor the Russians. Nor the french. And it just 'appeared' like that, out of nowhere."
"Get me contact with the CIA." The Commander said before placing the papers on his desk.​

 

[Jackson123]

Hoffmann saw the flash and smoke trail that rush towards him. The survival instinct kicks in, he jerked the stick and rudder pedal and spiraled sharply to the left, then yanked back on the stick for a sudden climb.

In a brief moment it’s as if time itself had slowed down, he can clearly see the projectile approaching him, with every details, it’s fin correcting it’s course, the rocket engine spewing flames and smokes propelling the warhead towards his Schwalbe.

The manoeuvre threw the rocket off, but he notices the arched smoke trail the rocket had made. It’s not HVAR, it’s guided.

Hoffmann turn on the radio and call base.

“Schnee One calling Oder, Schnee One calling Oder, the enemy plane is heavily armoured, my maschinenkanone couldn’t damage it with this loadout. Also they seem to be using guided rockets.”

“Oder calling Schnee One, Oder calling Schnee One, message acknowledged. You’re in luck, a pair of Wüger is conducting drills with X4 nearby, they’ll be there in 3 minutes.”

“Verstehen.”

X4? Hoffmann muttered. It’s an air to air missile deployed by the Luftwaffe, he had used it before, rockets that are attached to the plane via a miles long wire that the pilot had to manually home in with a control stick, armed with proximity fuse to explode near B-17s.

He haven’t flown Ta-152 before, it’s said that would be the ultimate piston engine fighter before they are phased out by jets, Hoffmann pulls the Me-262 to fly above the strange American aircraft, trying to go for another attack run.

He’s hesitant to go for the frontal attack as he still doesn’t know if there’s more defensive armament there, he lines up the Me262 to the rear of the enemy in ready for another strafing run, he pushed the throttle all the way forward, this time he aimed for the engines.

 

[Stricken Steel]

"We got two more radar contacts!" A crewman shouted on comms, before the attacker swerved behind the large gunship. "Shit! He's going for-" Smith was cut off whenever the plane shook violently, one of the engines has burst into flames. "Flaps damaged! Cut off Engine 1, Left!" Hamilton spoke quickly as the jet zoomed by, before Smith saw something. On the sides of the jet, German WW2 symbols were painted on the wings and side, and now the jet looked familiar. It looked sort of like a Me-262, but it was clearly modified for better speed.
The first engine on the left side sparked with flames before it was shut off.
The heavily armored plane slowly lowered as the pilot pulled back on the stick with what strength he had, and slowed down the descent. "Mayday. Mayday. Mayday. This is Warhammer, We've lost an engine and have damaged flaps. Sending crew to bail."
"All crew, Bail. Bail! Bail now! Grab your parachute and your issued rifle!" Smith hollered into his mic before they descended below the somewhat dark clouds. In the distance on the ground, an asphalt runway was spotted.
Little did they know, That was a german airbase called Büchel Air Base but the pilots had no choice but to make an emergency landing there.
"Smith, We have no choice but to give in. Tilt the aircraft left and right. We can't risk it anymore." The WSO spoke before turning his chair back to the flight controls. He flipped a switch on the roof-mounted controls before the large gears dropped. The pilots continued to rock the airplane as the crewmen and woman jumped off the open ramp, with parachutes and ASDWs.

Jackson123
​

 

[Jackson123]

Pieces of metal flew off in chunks from the bomber’s left wing, and then a thin white film sprayed back. It looked like jettisoned gasoline, but it might have been smoke. Hoffmann kept up his fire against the damaged area, hoping to hit either the fuel tanks or oxygen system with cannon shells, then the plane’s left engine seemed to be afire.

After his pass, Hoffmann notice they are now over Büchel Air Base. The damaged bomber is now speeding downwards, tilting the aircraft left and right, he realised the pilot might be trying to crash land on Büchel Field. He doves behind the crippled bomber and takes out his Luftwaffe issued Leica III(c) camera to take some pictures of the strange aircraft from a few hundred yards away. He saw some aircrews starts to bail out, within seconds a couple of parachutes are already drifting to earth.

He reported the sightings to the radio. On Büchel Airfield, some emergency vehicles alongside armed guards and tanks have rushed out near the tarmac.

 

[Stricken Steel]

"Deploy flaps!" Hamilton shouted.
"Flaps deployed!" Smith answered back.
5,000 feet...4,500 feet...3,500 feet. The plane was now slowing down enough to be able to land, The two pilots hoping their crew survive. "Are we able to land?" Smith asked before looking at his WSO for a split second. Hamilton kept his gaze straight, not answering.
"Sir, Are we going to make it?"
Still no reply from the officer.
In seconds the gunship was now approaching the tarmac, the pilot lowered the thrust of the engines. "Brace." Hamilton spoke as he and Smith pulled as hard as they could back on the stick. The gunship pulled upwards, despite having drastic damage to the flaps. As soon as the tires hit the asphalt they began to burn up, before a loud squealing sound was heard. Good thing this could take off and land on crappy asphalt. Smith kept his hand on the breaks, before it stopped a good 50 feet or so after landing.
The two pilots unbuckled themselves and climbed out of their seats, before they walked off the ramp and onto the tarmac with gloved hands up. They were still in full-gear too, They looked as if they were from the future.
The two pilots saw everything, and slowly everything began to piece together.
"Sir, Did we travel t-through time?" Smith asked, putting his visor up.

Jackson123​

 

[Jackson123]

The Luftwaffe personnel stationed in Büchel Air Base watched in awe when the damaged plane came down. Its landing gear and flaps extended, engines throttled back, easing out of its approach path for a landing. Where could the plane have come from? But...there it was, bouncing as the wheels hit the earth, the plane was going too fast and the touch down was harsh enough that the tires burned up. The squeal of brakes came to their ears. In a moment soldiers were rushing to the runway, excited with the prospect of being able to study in detail the defences of the powerful American bomber.

With sirens buzzing, fire engines came to the scene and began to shoot the American plane with firefighting foam cover.

A grey painted Opel Blitz with Iron Cross painted on it's door came in front of the landed aircraft and a squad of soldiers, wearing stahlhelm dressed in fliegerbluse luftwaffe uniform covered with splinter zeltbahn, jumped out with their StG44 in hands.

"Wer immer Sie sind, kommen Sie mit den Händen über dem Kopf raus!" a men wearing an officer visor hat shouted over a loudspeaker. "Ich fordere Sie auf, Ihre Waffe rauszuwerfen und mit erhobenen Händen rauszukommen, oder wir eröffnen das Feuer."

They watched with weapons aimed at the aircraft when the two American aircrew from the plane came up with their hands in the air, they are wearing some equipment never before seen on other allied bomber crews. But war does tend to speed up technological advancement, so at the moment the Germans hasn't thought too much about it as yet.

"Wenn Sie eine Waffe haben, lassen Sie sie fallen!" the officer shouts instruction again "Versuchen Sie nicht zu fliehen und machen Sie keine plötzliche Bewegung. Geht langsam aus dem Flugzeug."

The war with the American had been going on for...almost a decade now, so the Luftwaffe officer just assumed the American aircrew would be taught at least some simple Germans in case they got shot down over Germany.

 

[Stricken Steel]

"It would seem so, Second-Lieutenant. Did you ever get to learn german when we practiced with the Luftwaffe, back in afghan?" The WSO spoke with a glint in his eye. "Nah...no. Not really, sir." Smith answered as he kept his hands up. "Just follow my lead, He said walk out slowly. Don't worry. Wir...haben keine Waffe! Freundlich!" The WSO spoke calmly, in somewhat broken german.
The two slowly walked forward with their arms up, until a vibrating sound filled everyone's ears. The WSO slowly turned his head to Smith, who's face was pale, however Hamilton's was a crimson red. "Did you not get the meaning of leaving your phone at base?! Hand it over!" The vibrating stopped, before Smith slowly pulled out his Samsung 8 which was connected to a portable charger. "Uhh...Entschuldigung, war sein Mittagswecker!" Hamilton spoke quickly, before Smith unlocked the phone and turned off the alarm.
Smith handed Hamilton the phone and porta-charger, before shoving it into his jumpsuit pocket. "Now as we were." They continued forwards slowly, keeping it nice and steady.

Jackson123 ​

 

[Jackson123]

“Los, durchsucht sie.” The officer gestures to his soldiers, two of the soldiers came forward to perform a frisking for hidden weapons.

Normally this would also be the time to confiscate popular American commodities like camel cigarettes or chewing gums from downed pilots, but this time the metallic object that the aircrew just used caught their interest.



“Und was ist das?” the soldier muttered as he took it out of the pocket from the American pilot.

“Keine Ahnung, so etwas wie eine……Zigarettenetui?”

Thus they opened up the back of the Samsung but only find the lithium-ion battery at the back of it, and it only got them confused.

“Was ist ein Samsung?”

The other guy just shrugged.

The officer in charge came up to Hamilton while another group of German soldiers went into the American bomber to secure vital documents.

“Wie viele Crewmitglieder gibt es auf diese Flugzeug?”

The officer asked Hamilton, as more German soldiers are gathered, they are starting to form search parties complete with dogs in effort to try and locate other aircrews who had bailed out from this aircraft.

 

[Stricken Steel]

"Uhh, Thats my phone." Smith spoke as the Germans searched them. "Ist ein Telefon. Touchscreen. Kann Fotos machen, Spiele spielen und Dinge darauf lesen," Hamilton knew exactly what to do. "Viel fortgeschritten, wie unser Kampfhubschrauber."
Smith stared at Hamilton, who was eyeing all of these Germans.
"Can you tell them to give me back my phone, please?" Smith asked.
"No, No, No. Let them have it. I suggest no hostilities, We seriously need to respect these soldiers and officers." Hamilton spoke as he slowly put down his arms after being searched, He then turned his head to the examining German soldier. "Doppeltippen Sie auf den Bildschirm, geben Sie 3-1-9-4-0 auf der glatten Seite ein."
They have then directed a question, a question about their crewmen. "Sechs. 5 Männer, 1 Frau. Sie sind mit Gewehren bewaffnet, besser als die StGs dort." Hamilton spoke to the officer before smiling.
-------------------------------------------------
Afghanistan
Oct.6.2025

"Twenty minutes ago we just had a gunship disappear in mid-air. Know I want to know what-the-hell happened to it?" The Commander spoke on his telephone as he stared out the window at his phone. "Uhh, Sir?" A voice came, from the doorway.
"If you've got something to tell me, Tell it." He growled. "We've located some sort of anomaly, and it was directly in the flight-path of Warhammer.
"Anomaly? What sort of anomaly?" The Commander asked, keeping a palm over the speaker part of the phone. "We don't know yet. We've also sent a F22, but they've not answered to our radios or appeared on radar, Sir." The Soldier spoke.
"Gather the search parties. We need to find our pilots."

Jackson123 ​

 

[Jackson123]

“Ah, eine Fliegerin. Genau wie unser Hanna Reitsch und Beate Uhse…”

The Luftwaffe officer said inattentively as his focus became drawn to the intricate telephone gadget. He unlocked the phone and mess around a bit, the touchscreen technology bewildered him.

The advanced American equipment are sought after by the military, like Norden bombsight, but this seems obviously more valuable than that. Maybe this captured equipment would earn him a promotion, or maybe even better, a Ritterkreuz. He had been wearing the Iron Cross 1st class on his chest for some time now, and like many of his peers, he got a bit Halsschmerzen.

He notices the American pilot mentioned something about their Kampfhubschrauber. The German intelligence had learned that the American are testing their Bell H-13 Sioux to be fixed with bazookas, that should be referring to that.

“Nun, meine Herren.” He said “Sie sind nun Kriegsgefangene der Wehrmacht.”

Hamilton and Smith were sent to detained in a prison cell in the military base, while the Germans began searching the area for the parachuted American aircrew. At the moment, a lot of shouting in Germans, engine sound from the Volkswagen as well as numerous dog barks could be heard from a distance.

 

[Stricken Steel]

"Yep. Could've hadn't guessed more." Hamilton frowned, as he and his pilot were walked to a secure holding cell in the facility. "C'mon Smith, We're POWs now. We're also probably going to be interrogated later. Let's just hope our crew makes it to safety." "Sir? We can't just giv-" Smith stopped when Hamilton turned to him. "DID I ASK FOR QUESTIONS, SENIOR-AIRMAN? YOU WILL FOLLOW THIS OR ANY OTHER OFFICER'S INSTRUCTIONS. NO IFS OR BUTS. OR I WILL RELIEVE YOU OF YOUR RANK!" Hamilton shouted at Smith as if he did this every day.
Smith's head sunk down before he gave a barely audible, "Yes sir."
Whenever the both of them were put into a cell, Hamilton sat down on a metal bench with a thin rubber mat spread on it. Smith sat down on the bunk with a white mattress on it. "Officer, Are we stuck here forever?" Smith spoke.
"Why do you ask?" Hamilton asked, not looking up. Smith dug into his pocket and pulled out a small photo of a beautiful young woman with a smile holding onto Smith's hands, before showing it to the WSO.
"Oh..." Hamilton spoke.

Meanwhile, The aircrew was running for their lives, with their modified M4A1 rifles, through thick groves of woodland. They could all hear hounds and shouting not far behind, Yet it seemed every minute they seemed to get farther behind. The female gun-loader was at the front of the group, wheezing as she ran.
Sergeant Bethany Cory, A young but short woman. Yet don't let her silky black shoulder-length hair and smooth skin fool you. "Don't fire unless absolutely necessary." She spoke quickly, out of breath. Those were...Germans. The WW2 Germans.

The F22 Pilot was confused on what just happened. First, The bright white light and the screens in the jet going crazy. And now he was flying low...but fast over unpopulated woodland, almost crashing before quickly pulling up. In the seat was Airman Jacob Wills, of the 1st Operations group.



He was temporarily placed into Afghanistan for recon missions, Due to his jet being able to shrink it's size on radar to the size of a bird. The jet pulled down a bit lower just over tree-top level in order to avoid SAMs, and AA fire.
"Base, This is Blackbird-Two. How copy?" He spoke. There was yet no answer, only quiet static. "Uhh, Warhammer. If you are in the vincinity of me, Please respond. We've lost you on all radar, Including PAVE PAWs. Warhammer, Please respond immediately."
Miles away, As the F22 Pilot was speaking into his radio, The headsets on the AC-130 began to repeat the words of the fighter pilot. Surely the sounds would attract the german soldiers looking for important documents aboard.

Jackson123 ​

 

[Jackson123]

The sonic boom produced by the F-22 as it cruises at supersonic speed could be heard everywhere within 30 miles radius.

The civilians around the Büchel Air Base are already used to this noise, as the Luftwaffe had been regularly conducting test with their rocket powered supersonic aircraft around Büchel Area in recent years.

But the Luftwaffe themselves knew well there’s no scheduled supersonic test today. Officers rush to radar room only to met the confused face of the radar operator as neither the Freya nor the Würzburg radar had caught anything on their PPI screen.

Günther Hoffmann also heard the sonic boom from within his cockpit, he looks around but he couldn’t see which aircraft could it be that produced that sound.

On the ground, the German soldiers had released their canines, Dobermann and German Shepherds barking furiously as they charged towards Bethany Cory. The soldiers were firing at the running figures with their weapons, some were armed with Kar98K, some with StG44s.

 

[Jackson123]

After Hamilton and Smith were taken into custody, and while the manhunt was going on around Büchel, a jet propelled VTOL transport had landed onto the tarmac of Büchel airfield.



It’s a Donier Do 31 sent from Bonn, the nearest big city. From the ramp of the aircraft, an SS officer wearing a piece of well trimmed M34 grey service uniform walks out of the aircraft. The grey service tunic and the starched brown shirt underneath are tailored to fit his 5’10 size.



A guard had came forth to greet him with a Sieg Heil, to which he casually returned the courtesy. He takes off his officer cap and hand it over for a soldier for safekeeping, revealing his blonde hair, before he also removes his leather gloves to and hand them over together with the cap.

His uniform is adorned by only a War Merit Cross 2nd Class around the chest button and a Bronze SA Sports Badge on the pocket. The lack of battle related medals are indicative that this man had served most the war in rear duty and likely never seen the frontline, but the diamond shaped SD patch on his left sleeve would still be ominous enough that it command respects.

The SD, Sicherheitsdienst, the security service in the SS under the Reich Security Main Office, having the reputation of being a ruthless intelligence agency and highly efficient in performing their line of duty.

Smith was being taken to an interrogation room. It’s like in the old movies, a dimmed room, a table in the middle with a lamp while the interrogator sits at the back. A soldier stood guard at the door in the room after he escorted Smith in.

“Ah, you’re finally here. Take a sit, please.” The SD officer smiled and motion towards the metal chair on the other side of the table. He spoke with a clear, articulate voice, almost no accent can be noticed.

“Want anything? Drinks…or maybe snacks?”

 

[Stricken Steel]

Sergeant Cory kept on running, running from the Germans and the dogs. The others began to fire blindly at the dogs, striking a couple on the first tries and downing them. "Go! Run!" Cory shouted at her men.

"Oh shit!" The F-22 pilot blurted out before almost crashing into another jet, a strange one at that. The F-22 pilot lowered the thrust power of the afterburner and flew almost evenly with the jet. It was a German Luftwaffe jet, with a black cross with a white outline, Instead of the usual grey outline with a light blue cross. The pilot switched his comms to all aerial frequencies.
"Es tut uns leid! How do you do my german friend? I see the Luftwaffe has sent you to assist me! Tell command how grateful I am! Careful though, I just experienced some extreme electronic malfunctions!" The jet kept side-to-side with the german jet, hoping they would respond.

Smith sat down, cautious of what was going to happen. He was expecting a bright light flashed in his face, waterboarding, or even truth serum. Instead, he was asked if he wanted drinks or snacks, and couldn't help himself.
"Uhh, Well...I haven't eaten much in the past ten hours, Too many close-fire support missions and ISIS soldiers to deal with. I would like something though, like a glass of water and some eggs or something, please. Oh wait, Are you an officer? Sorry! I am Senior-Airman Charlie Smith, Of the 4th Special Operations Squadron. I fly-I mean I flew the AC-130J Ghostrider gunship, before we had to pull off quite the landing! Whew." He was really nervous, and his face was turning red.

Jackson123 ​

 

[Jackson123]

Just when they were about to get to the safety behind the tree lines, one of the American air crew was being hit in his leg. He falls to the ground and still struggling, crawling, trying to get into the woods, the German search party are close enough that had they try to rescue their wounded comrade they would risk all of them to be captured.

The unfamiliar looking American jet aircraft had too got Hoffmann by surprise, the near-missed mid air collision had sent a chill down his spine. He soon noticed that American jet fighter was not trying to attack, and then the all frequency transmission came in with the yankee starts speaking in some broken German. This drawn one conclusion in his mind: desertion, the American pilot is trying to defect to the Third Reich, bringing with him a new experimental aircraft.

It was not unheard of. Hoffmann remembered only 2 years ago in 1948, two Soviet pilots defected to the west in their Tu-2, they landed in Linz, Österreich, the very place that der Führer himself spent his childhood in. It was a major propaganda victory, Göbbels made sure his propaganda machines let every citizens of the Reich learned the news as a proof of “ideological superiority” of the national socialist movement over the Bolsheviks.

“Hallo American pilot, welcome to Germany, you can follow me to the nearest air base for some food and rest.” Hoffmann said as he observes the strange looking aircraft.

In the interrogation room, the SD officer gestured with his hand to the reflective mirror, and not long later a young, blonde woman opened the door. She wore grey tunic and short pencil skirt of the same colour, black stockings along with high heels, looking crisp and smart with the SS siegrune badge flashing on her chest.

"How can I help, Sir?"

"Bring me a jug of water and one glass, also some sandwiches with egg and bacon please, Irma." The interrogator smiled at her and nodded slightly, before turning his attention back to Charlie Smith.

“It is a pleasure to meet you Mister Smith, I am Friedrich Schumacher, a Standertenführer from the SS. Which would be the equivalent of…emm…Colonel, in the US military.”

Schumacher sat back in his seat, one leg crossed over the other.

“You see, I am rather curious as to why your plane would ended up flying around Büchel. What could it be that stoke the interest of……let me guess, OSS? Ah wait, they’ve changed their name, they are called CIA now aren't they?”

 

[Stricken Steel]

As one of the crew members start to fall behind, they were hit in the leg. Cory turned around to retrieve them, and now the Germans were getting closer. She fired shots blindly as they began to pour from the thick forestry. "Go guys! Find somewhere safe to hide!" She shouted, before raising up her arms in defeat.

The F22 pilot was grateful they had responded, and quickly responded back. "Sorry, I can't do that as of the moment. Uhh, However, Have you seen an AC-130J Ghostrider? Big plane? It went missing off of the Sattelite camera and radar twenty minutes ago," The pilot paused, taking in some air. "However, I can do a quick flyby of your base. Should give your men a great time."

Smith stared at the german officer, unblinking. He was debating on whether or not, to tell the truth.
"Well, Officer...Sir...It's hard to explain. You see, I- My crew and my gunship...I know this will simply let me be laughed on but, we're from the future. An alternate one at that. And I know a couple of experiments going on by you germans. I know that Germany was supplied by the USSR in secret before the USSR joined the war after Germany broke the non-aggression pact. We were confused about what happened on board the gunship because all of our electronics were extremely defective for a short amount of time. We all thought it was some sort of early Halloween prank by command, as we were flying in to support some ground troops. All of a sudden, We're hit with electronic warfare and extreme turbulence even I hadn't seen before. Remember that device you took from me? That isn't even supposed to exist yet and based on its advancements, It would only take a decade or more to replicate for you guys...We come from the 21st Century." He looked down and took in air. "Also yes, It's called the CIA. Central Intelligence Agency."

Jackson123 ​

 

[Stricken Steel]

'Entity' Quarantine Zone, Afghanistan
Oct.7th.2025

A whole entire cement wall topped with barbed wire now surrounded the almost translucent portal-like anomaly, Radio operators keeping both aircraft and land vehicles away, as a base was being built nearby. It was past 12, and some were already getting ready to sleep, when they heard the sound of a helicopter.
It was a midnight-black Blackhawk helicopter, and inside was The Commander. The door was opened up by a soldier and the commander stepped out, staring at the large glowing portal nearby.
"Any sign from either?" He asked. "Sir, No communications. However, We are receiving distorted sounds and recordings from the entity. It's also scrambling our drones' cameras whenever we send one near it." The soldier replied after giving a salute. "I'll get the president on the line." He spoke.

The White House, Washington D.C.
"...Well, Tracy. This is some real different stuff than our usual reports. The president just shared with us a 3rd-world entity has been discovered in Afghanistan and is willing to have Germany, North Korea, Russia, China, and Great Britain participate in studying it. This will be the first time all these countries have worked together as one...and oh wait! This just in! The Russian president Vladimir Putin has called all troops from the Ukraine border, and is calling off the war! This is amazing! He is also willing to send in 1000 troops to assist with guarding the new entity! Germany's PM is now in a conference, speaking about this new discovery and how to handle it.

Jackson123 ​

 

[Jackson123]

So it was a ploy, the American pilot was not going to defect, but trying to obtain information from him, a German pilot, with words game. Hoffmann felt frustrated that the enemy would think of him as such a fool that they could exploit information with words what they cannot obtain with conventional reconnaissance.

Hoffmann cut out the radio and prepare for attack. The two aircraft were close enough that Hoffmann could align his line of fire by a simple banking turn, he pulls the trigger and the 30mm shell found it way into the F-22’s jet engine nozzle, the strange jet starts leaking black smoke but still flying.

Hoffmann was expecting the fighter jet to disintegrate, once again the durability of these new American aircrafts surprises him.

“I—see.” Upon hearing the scrambled words from the airmen, the Standartenführer’s face showed nothing at all, save for a polite smile as a mask that whatever thoughts might gather.

“Clever game, a madman might babble of wonder device or planes full of documents from the year 2025, but they do not produce them, certainly not showing up in one. I admire the efforts of you and your compatriots in that regards, however…” Schumacher said “If that be so——note I said IF——why did you not bring any eh, ahem, era appropriate weapons? We have examined the aircraft, the 10.5cm canon, impressive work putting that on a plane, yet the projectile are still propelled by burning propellent, chemical reactions. If it’s from 2025, where’s the gauss rifle, railgun or other electromagnetic, energy based weapons? Have weapons technology not advanced in 75 years? that I doubt so. Not to mention those assault rifles, doesn’t even seem to be that different from those FN FAL the Belgian developed for the Wehrmacht.”

“75 years ago, Mister Smith, when Kaiser Wilhelm alongside Chancellor Bismarck lead the war for German unification and achieved victory over France, the Prussian troops, that my father was part of, were using needle guns, single shot breechloading blackpowder rifles, and THAT was the ground breaking invention of it’s time, since then we have made mauser bolt actions, maxim guns, eh, maschinenpistole, now we have the Sturmgewehr, in 75 years, and you’re here trying to convince me that 75 years later, people would still be stuck with assault rifles?”

Irma finally returned and set down a jug of water on the table, just in front of Smith, and a mug and a piece of sandwich to go with it. She smiled at him, turned, and exited the room.

“So, Mister Smith.” Schumacher chuckled quietly “Don’t try to play games with me, just tell us what was your mission over Büchel. The war would certainly be over soon and you could return to America——that is if you still want to go back, no doubt would be a wasteland by the time we’re done with them. Your cooperativeness here would determine whether you would spent the rest of the war in the comfort of those Stalag Luft camps run by Luftwaffe, or mining Helium-3 on the Moon Colony for our nuclear reactors, and believe me when I say, you don’t want to be sent there as a prisoner.”

 

[Stricken Steel]

Airman Wills quickly pulled up, realizing this was no friendly. The jet was quicker to turn than other jets of this era, And was much more superior to the Me series of aircraft. However, There was one downside, and that the jet only had enough rounds to make 6-7 short bursts. The F22 pulled up, before the pilot began to frantically shout words into his mic, hoping the base would hear. "Taking fire! I repeat, Taking fire!"
The pilot quickly performed a loop, and got behind the German fighter. He held down on the firing button for a split second, before the 20mm cannon rounds struck the right-wing and damaged the flaps.

"We don't have a lot of that stuff, and do you realize how much a railgun even is? The United States is the only one to actually have the closest thing to railguns, and they are on the Warships we use, The Zumwalt-class destroyers. And it also needs a power source to charge which by the way is very costly as well, but we have other things. Like laser cutters, Night-vision goggles, thermal-gun sights, laser-sights, red-dot sights, reflex sights, and god knows what else. And by the way, We do have take-off and landing documents on the gunship! There was no mission, Only confusion and shattering of the world as we know it, Officer. By what weapons we have, We could wipe out Germany in minutes with Intercontinental Ballistic Missiles." The Pilot stood up, his face beet-red. "Do you realize what is even happening!? In our timeline, The Soviets killed Hitler! The war ended when Japan surrendered after Nagasaki and Hiroshima! And, The United States was the first to plant a goddamn flag on the moon in 1969! Officer, I also DO NOT want to go back to a land not of my time! And I bet your ass your little Panzers won't exist in a week because we'll have Abrams tanks and Apache choppers and A10 Warthogs swarming this place!" He grabbed the jug of water and poured some water into the mug and gulped it down.
"Just an hour ago, I was in Afghanistan dammit! Tell me how the fuck I travel back 75 years and into a War that ended in 1945? And yet here I am, In 1950 with Nazis swarming the goddamned earth! Have one of your super-duper smart Scientists explain how the fuck how we have weapon systems that are more advanced than yours and how some portal transported us hundreds of miles into Germany??" The man sat down, before pulling a picture of his wife. A young woman dressed in a beautiful red dress. "Tell me, How do I go back, Officer? How do I get back to my wife in another time, another place?"

Jackson123



​

 

[Jackson123]

The right wing of the Me262 shears away like an autumn leaf and the plane starts plummeting earthwards, hurtling towards the field like a burning torch. Hoffmann pulls a handle underneath his seat, and the canopy jettisoned off of his Messerschmitt, the pilot seat rocketed out of the fuselage, he felt the G force pushed him firmly into his seat before the white parachute spread open, drifting him slowly to the ground. Hoffmann is thankful that his plane is equipped with the new ejection seat technology, otherwise from this height and speed he think he might not have time to escape the plane before it crashes into the ground.

On the field, Flaks started to open up on the F-22, explosions from the 88mm Flak and gun fire from 20mm anti air artillery engulfed the area around which the raptor is flying.

Standartenführer Schumacher tilted his head slightly, narrowing his eyes. The American sounds mentally deranged, which, if it had been the case, would have been the utmost waste of his time. Perhaps only madman would undertake such a mission to penetrate deep into German heartland in a single plane, yet Schumacher doubt they would sent pilots with delusional disorder.

Perhaps it’s the radiation, he remembers when the Wehrmacht repelled the second allied invasion of Normandy in 1949 with more than 200 tactical atomic bombs exploded on the French coastline, there were reports of a significant amount of mental disorder from the allied POWs they captured. That would also explain the talk of missiles wiping out Germany or whatever……

The standartenführer shrugged, little do the American knows, Germany is already in possession of weapons that could wreak havoc in the entire North American continent in one shot, but of course there’s no need to inform this guy in front of him.

He can almost guess with certainty the American were here to look around Büchel for nukes, it’s one of the Luftwaffe base with nuclear arsenal. He didn’t care much the American aren’t willing to tell him their mission, he’s simply trying to gather information with what the American choose to say under pressure.

“Well then, I take it you want to introduce us some new toys, what’s the deal about these……Abrams, Apaches and A-10?”