Date: Wed, 20 Dec 2006 11:42:20 -0500
From: carl_mason@comcast.net
Subject: JOSEF'S FORGE - 4

JOSEF'S FORGE - 4

Copyright 2006 by Carl Mason with Ed Collins

All rights reserved.  Other than downloading one copy for strictly personal
enjoyment, no part of this story may be reproduced or transmitted in any
form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, except for reviews, without
the written permission of the authors.  However based on real events and
places, "Josef's Forge" is strictly fictional.  Any resemblance to actual
events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.  As
in real life, however, the sexual themes unfold gradually.

If you would like to read other Mason-Collins stories, please turn to the
listing at the end of this chapter.  Comments on all stories are
appreciated and may be addressed to the authors at carl_mason@comcast.net.

This story contains descriptions of sexual contact between males, both
adults and teenagers.  As such, it is homoerotic fiction designed for the
personal enjoyment of legal, hopefully mature, adults.  If you are not of
legal age to read such material, if those in power and/or those whom you
trust treat it as illegal, or if it would create unresolvable moral
dilemmas in your life, please leave.  Finally, remember that maturity
generally demands that anything other than safe sex is sheer insanity!


CHAPTER 4

(Revisiting Chapter 3)

What countermeasures were open to him?  How could he forge a far different
outcome?  Even though the rations had finally improved, no one could change
his or her physical strength overnight.  Nor one could acquire a skill
overnight, learn Russian immediately, or get used to the horrid Siberian
climate.  No one could be accepted in a support group such as the Squad
without the process taking time. All of these factors would increase the
chances for survival - but there was precious little time. One technique,
however, COULD be learned: the will to survive. Those determined to
survive, and willing to make all the needed adjustments through compromise
and adaptation, had a chance to survive if all other factors - luck and
skills - were also in their favor.  How, Josef thought, could he forge a
determination to survive in the four boys whose lives he had accepted as
his responsibility?

(Continuing Our Story - Whatever It Takes)

In the hours before dawn, the boys of the Squad stood about before marching
into the forest for the new day's work.  After a short summer of extreme
heat and humidity, they now shivered and stamped their feet in the sudden
cold.  Their uniforms - so tattered as to show more skin than thin cloth -
give them little to no protection.  (Many of the prisoners - their skeletal
bodies covered with scars and sores - wore nothing other than rags that
barely covered their genitals.)

Summer had come and gone so quickly!  It had only been a couple of weeks
ago that Max - a good man as well as a good soldier - had accidently fallen
against a guard, been stripped, and publicly hung crucifixion-style on a
pine tree to be fed upon by thousands of fierce mosquitos.  Less than an
hour later, his waxen body was removed from the tree.  He had lost so much
blood that he slowly died an excruciating death.  Magically, the mosquitos
seemed to be gone today - but, then, so was Max.

Death by mosquitos was, of course, not the only torture technique practiced
by the guards.  With little to no reason, prisoners would find their skulls
squeezed within iron rings - or ramrods heated over a primus stove thrust
up their anal canal.  They were commonly kept from sleeping for a week,
beaten to a bloody pulp, forced to stand or kneel upright for up to 48
hours - or to sit on a stool for 6 days while being deprived of water.  The
training of the blue-capped guards required only a willingness to carry out
orders exactly and be impervious to suffering.  No limits were placed on
their sadism or their greed for power and gain.

Josef's eyes passed over the completed camp - the palisade and the
watchtowers surmounted by searchlights, the administration building
(including a room for on-duty guards) in front of which stood a large
assembly square, the cookhouse, several supply buildings, and the numerous
prisoner barracks. When they passed through the gate after roll call, he
knew he would see other supply buildings plus the commandant's dwelling,
the main guards' barrack, and kennels for the dogs.  (The open display of
their food bowls - usually filled with raw meat - had to be another act of
intentional cruelty.)  As a trail from the road neared the gate, there was
also a large portrait of Stalin, exhorting the prisoners that "through
honest labor lies the road to release".  "Little chance," Josef muttered,
"that many men would be released from this camp...at least alive!"

On that day, as the work column marched out through the gate, they saw that
the bodies of two comrades lay crumpled on the ground.  Gone two days, one
had been savaged by dogs and both had been shot and displayed as a warning
to other prisoners, new and old, that attempts to escape were futile.
Escape?  Where were two weakened men to go in this raw and brutal
wilderness?  Were those two days - free but terrorized - worth it?
Countless men asked themselves that question - and the answer came neither
quickly nor easily.

How the Squad had come to hate the forest!  Seven days a week, they faced
up to thirteen hours of backbreaking labor with HAND tools - and that
didn't count the time needed for the long trek to and from the work area!
When quotas weren't met, they were left in the forest til midnight with
searchlights.  On those days, they got back to camp just before morning in
time to eat their meager dinner along with their breakfast and go out into
the woods again.  If they fell on the way, they were simply shot.  No
matter...  Shipments of new prisoners were constantly arriving.  Cut down
trees, remove and burn branches and trash, saw up and stack some wood,
manhandle the big logs back to the road for trucking to the railhead east
of Tyumen...  They could take an occasional break, but every minute taken
was added to the end of the workday.  It was a terrible regimen.

That night, Josef gathered his four Squad members about him.  Idly crushing
bedbugs, lice, and other vermin, Wolf, Heinz, and Gerd sprawled on the two
bottom beds of the rough-hewn triple bunks.  Thomas and Josef sat on the
floor between the two bunks, tiredly resting their backs against the wooden
frames.  Josef's chin was thrust out in determination; his eyes literally
glowed with passion; his commanding voice belied the exhaustion that he
shared with his men.  Never had he been more their sergeant!

"Listen, guys, he began, these bastards think that they can strip the
humanity from us.  They think that they can break our spirit as well as our
bodies...that they can mold us into mindless, fearful lumps of flesh that
will simply do as they say...that they can separate us until we hate anyone
who stands between the prisoner and survival.  I tell you that they are
wrong!  The only force that can cause you to give up is yourself!  The only
force that can cause you to act like a bastard is yourself!  There's more.
If we act together...as decent human beings...we can help the other guy to
make it - and I'm not just talking about the five of us.  We can do
whatever it takes to survive as proud, humane men - and, God willing, go
home.  But we have to stand together - and I can't order you to do that.
No one can.  I'd rather die here as a man who is free inside himself than
go home after having been molded into something that is traitorous to
everything in which I believe.  I want to go home...sure...but I want to go
home with my head held high - and with you.  If you haven't figured it out
yet, I love you guys.  Will you...can you...join me in standing together
for something more than fear, hatred, and survival at any cost?"

Josef couldn't see the slow movement, for his eyes were fixed on the floor.
He did hear soft sobs as the guys on the beds quietly slid down into the
narrow space between the bunks.  He did feel their arms...and their wet
faces...as they hugged and softly cried together.  He knew he didn't have
to say anything further.

(New Fish for the Tank)

Within a week, the totally unexpected happened.  One day the old order was
firmly in control.  The next, the starshi Major, his Lieutenants, his
medical staff, and many of his guards were swept away.  Reasonably
trustworthy sources had it that production in the Major's three forest
camps had fallen well below that of all similar labor camps in western
Siberia.  The death rate was so high that needed work could not be
completed.  He had been "recalled to Moscow" by the NKVD.  Several of his
Lieutenants, including the head medical officer, had been accused of
"sabotaging the war effort," given a field hearing, and executed.  Most of
the guards had been reassigned; some had been sent to other camps...as
prisoners; several had been shot.

The German POWs met their new commandant and his staff on one of the few
autumn days in Siberia.  The parade ground in front of the administration
building was wreathed in fog.  Occasionally, a light snow shower briefly
swirled across the open ground.  Although it was obvious that he held no
more love for the Germans than had his predecessor, it was also clear from
his crisp military bearing that he had different priorities.  Production
would increase - of that he left no doubt.  Nevertheless, their working
conditions would also improve.  As long as obedience was instantaneous,
they would be treated fairly.  Warmer clothing would be provided; medical
treatment would be available for those who weren't malingering; food
provided for the prisoners would reach their plates.  (He didn't say where
it had gone previously, but the men knew that every decent bite had been
consumed by trustees and guards or stolen to be sold on the black market.)
Though it faded quickly as the Major's posture stiffened and he glared at
them, an involuntary buzz spread across the prisoner ranks.  They were
shocked still further when he announced that prisoners would stand down for
the day while inspections took place and new procedures were instituted.

When the Squad returned to its barrack, the boys were amazed to find a
breakfast consisting of a warm soup thickened with barley (and other
vegetation that they couldn't identify) plus a small square of khleb.  That
night, the same meal was supplemented by a scrap of aged horsemeat (from
animals that had died keeping the road passable for the lumber trucks).
There was no way that they could chew the unyielding, leather-like flesh,
but it was a feast for all of that!  During the day, they were visited by a
Lieutenant who inspected the building and a medical orderly who checked on
the condition of the workforce.  Two men were taken to the infirmary (never
to return); while they were at work the next day, the building was
fumigated.  Three great bales of worn but relatively clean winter clothing
were also delivered to the barrack.  After showering (which involved a
naked trek to a nearby building and a necessary break while the men tried
to warm themselves around the stove), the clothing was distributed by the
sergeants.  Those men who still had them were allowed to keep their
Wehrmacht caps, but their other tattered, vermin-infested rags were
collected and burned.  Josef had mixed feelings as he surveyed his Squad.
It had been so long since he had been out of uniform.  He was actually warm
for the first time in a week, but everyone looked so odd...so Russian.
Only the looks on their faces and their military bearing said
that...somehow...he had gotten through to them.  They were still proud men
rather than faceless, beaten...prisoners.

In the weeks that followed, additional three-tired bunk units were added to
the already crowded barrack.  Some of the new prisoners were German POWs,
but others were different.  For instance, there were civilian prisoners
from the westernmost reaches of the Soviet Union - the Baltics (especially
Estonia), Byelorussia, and the Ukraine.  Gradually, the camp began to take
on the appearance of a typical Soviet gulag rather than a POW compound.

Josef was rather taken by some of the newcomers, especially a young "Baltic
German" named Erich from the university town of Tartu in Estonia.  His
whole family had been swept up in the return of the Red Army to Estonia and
sent to separate labor camps.  His father had been on the faculty of the
University of Tartu; his mother was an optometrist; his sister was three
years younger than he and still in school.  Erich proudly announced that he
was a second-year student in foreign languages who spoke several languages
fluently, including Russian.  When he took the one remaining bed in their
two bunk tiers, he was rapidly accepted by the others as one of the Squad.
Though the same age as Josef, he hadn't had to suffer the long period of
terror and privation experienced by his new friends.  His beauty
and...freshness invigorated them all.  If he had a problem, it was the
violent case of hero worship that he developed for "his" sergeant.  Josef
often found him staring at him with puppy dog eyes filled with awe...and -
what was it? - more than a little lust.  Josef just grinned and, sometimes,
flicked the end of his nose affectionately.  Thomas caught one such
exchange and smirked lewdly in Josef's direction.  Blushing, the sergeant
bared his teeth at him in a play snarl and continued with what he was
doing.  When Josef looked back at Erich, the youngster was as red as a
beet...his fingers twisting a loose thread in his shirt.

(Fate Plays a Card)

The "administrative holiday" was soon over and the men returned to the
forests.  The work was still backbreaking, and the cries of the guards to
MOVE IT were, if anything, more insistent.  There was, however, a
difference.  Their rations - such as they were - were on the table every
morning and every night.  They even received a small chunk of bread at
noon.  Further, the behavior of the guards was more...professional.
(Strange use of the word, but in the context of the gulag it was apt.)
True, disobedience or the slightest disrespect brought heavy penalties
crashing down on the perpetrator.  Nevertheless, the guards rarely went out
of their way to terrorize the prisoners.  Production climbed.

When Erich joined the work crew on the day following his arrival, he
initially threw himself into the logging with everything he had.  Unlike
the earlier incident with the young Germans in their 20s, however, the
entire Squad - led by Gerd and Wolf who threw their arms around his
shoulders and talked with him like loving Dutch uncles - immediately calmed
him down.  For all of that, Erich had it bad!  He couldn't keep his eyes
off Josef.  Further, when they worked together on a task such as lifting a
heavy log, Erich's body was usually as much in contact with his sergeant's
as with the log!  Even when he was white with fatigue in the early days,
however, there was nothing that he wouldn't do to raise the spirits of his
new friends - and they responded in kind.

On a particularly nasty windswept day filled with swirling snow showers and
steadily dropping temperatures, Josef decided that he had to take a short
lunch break - even though he would have to pay back the minutes at the end
of the workday.  (It had been a hard morning wherein many of the young men
had to strap themselves into harnesses and drag heavy logs to the trucks.)
Erich was by his side in a flash.  When they had collected their bread
ration, he grabbed Josef's arm, saying that he had found a nice place to
eat in peace.  (The guards allowed this.  Where were the prisoners to go?)
After a three or four minute walk in an area that hadn't been heavily
logged, the boy led him to the entrance of a cave that was hidden by brush
and trees in a short ravine.  Once inside out of the wind, they found it to
be almost warm and felt...safe.

As the boys sprawled comfortably on the floor of the cave, munching their
bread and joking about their morning "oxen duty", Erich looked up at his
hero and said, "You don't hate anyone, do you, Josef?"  "Not often... takes
too much energy" came the reply.  "You love every guy in the Squad, don't
you?"  "Yep, guess I do," Josef grunted.  Erich persisted: "If I showed you
something really disgusting about me, would you hate me and, maybe, kick me
out of the Squad?"  Josef rose on one elbow and looked deeply into the
bright blue eyes of the youngster.  Reaching up, he brushed the soft blond
hair that had yet to be shorn out of his eyes. "Show me," the sergeant
commanded.  "You're safe; you're with friends."  With that, Erich inhaled,
slid over a bit, and kissed his hero passionately.  As Josef withdrew from
the youngster's fear-stricken face, the boy's first convulsive sob was cut
short by kisses that rained down on every part of his face and neck.
Barely a moment passed before they were naked, Erich's body resting full
length on top of Josef's, their rock-hard cocks dueling as their sweaty
bodies glided over each other in rising passion.  It was over almost before
it began.  Josef lay exhausted, knowing that he had never cum as hard or in
such quantity.  The cum-splattered blond puppy from Estland [German:
Estonia] was curled up beside him, his head pressed against Josef's upper
chest, his lips making little noises against his sergeant's neck.

Suddenly, perhaps due to a shadow, Josef looked up.  Standing in the
entrance to the little cave, Josef saw Heinz, the tears streaming down the
redhead's face.  Josef looked down into Erich's face, his question unspoken
but clear.  The lad, who had also spied Heinz, smiled softly and nodded.
The sergeant grinned and motioned for Heinz to join them.  He had to repeat
the gesture - this time a bit more assertively - before Heinz approached.
Reassured by the warmth of their welcome, it didn't take additional coaxing
for him to lose his clothes and join them in a tight hug.  Though he was as
hard as steel, he was also as embarrassed as all hell and didn't seem to
have Idea One about how to proceed.  Erich did!  Rolling over, he lifted
himself over the rail-thin youngster whose most prominent feature at that
point was his enormously long, albeit thin, cock.  Swooping down, he
vacuumed Heinz's prong into his mouth and throat without stopping until his
nose was buried in the boy's curly red pubes.  Josef immediately began to
do his duty, wildly kissing the redhead's face and torso...sucking and
nibbling on his stiffening nipples.  Heinz was in heaven!  His twitching
body writhed in every direction, moans and strange sounds pouring from his
open mouth.  All too soon, his body stiffened and arched high off the
floor.  With a cry of exaltation, he provided Erich with more protein than
he had probably enjoyed for days!  Breaking into wild sobs, he threw his
arms around his two comrades, kissing each in turn.  Josef hated to break
up the joyous scene, but he knew that they'd have an hour of hard labor to
repay before they'd ever see the barracks again.  The smiling, happy kids,
their arms around each other, quickly made their way back to the work area.
Seeing them coming, Thomas smiled to himself, albeit a little sadly.  He
never let them know he had seen them.

The afternoon was another period of hard, filthy, painful work.  A backlog
of logs had built up and had to be moved to the trucks that awaited them.
Nearly 50 prisoners, Josef and friends included, were ordered to don the
harnesses and put their backs into it.  Each log had to be pulled over a
half mile across rough ground.  It was actually the Squad that finally
managed to drag the last log to the truck park.  Trying to catch their
breath, they sat crumpled on the ground, watching several guards supervise
the hoisting of the logs onto the flatbed trucks.  The final truck was
already fully loaded when they arrived, but the head guard insisted that
their log be added.  That was a mistake - and the guards paid dearly for
it!  When their log was added to the pile, the load suddenly became
unstable.  Before everything could be chained down, the heavy timbers began
to roll off the truck.  One guard was crushed...undoubtedly killed
instantly.  Two others were trapped amidst the fallen logs.  A giant timber
still on the truck was swaying ominously.  If it gave way, the remaining
logs would surely roll down onto those that were trapping the two men,
erasing their lives.

The large group of prisoners sat and stood as if frozen to the ground.
Several had ugly smirks on their faces as they contemplated the sweet
revenge that seemed about to take place.  Josef suddenly glanced at his
buddies - and took off running for the truck, his Squad members at his
heels.  The guards were too far into shock to react.  Climbing up on the
lumber truck, they stabilized the log that was threatening to topple and
got a chain around it.  Once it was secure, they climbed down and
approached the jumbled logs that trapped the two young guards who were
sobbing and white-faced with fear.  At this point, the guards recovered
and, along with the Squad and several of the other prisoners, freed the
trapped boys.  The leg of one was pretty well torn up and bleeding heavily,
but they got the bleeding stopped.  The other youngster came out of his
brush with death with little more than heavy scratches and a few
abrasions. As an empty truck approached, the head guard sent the prisoners
who hadn't been involved in the rescue back into the forest.  He then
ordered the two guards - and the body of the dead boy - lifted onto the
truck.  The Squad and the few other prisoners who had belatedly helped were
told to climb aboard.  They left immediately for the camp.


(To Be Continued)


                DATES OF LAST POSTING IN NIFTY
       Archived in Gay/Historical Unless Otherwise Noted

OUT OF THE RUBBLE (32 Chapters): 10-22-04.
CASTLE MARGARETHEN (9 Cs):  12-24-04.
THE PRIEST & THE PAUPER (12 Cs):  3-10-05.
HIGH PLAINS DOCTOR (12 Cs):  4-25-05.
FOR GOD AND COUNTRY (9 Cs): 6-13-05.
HOBO TEEN (12 Cs):  8-23-06.
YOUNG JEREMY TAYLOR (9 Cs):  9-25-06 (posted in Sci-Fi/Fantasy).
STREETS OF NEW YORK (10 Cs):  12-06-06.
JOSEF'S FORGE  (10 Cs): Posting.