The Witch’s March: History Fact #6

Heinrich Himmler served Hitler as Nazi SS chief during World War II.  He was fascinated with the idea of occultic, dark magic.  Since the end of the war, his leading the Nazis towards these beliefs made for numerous books, films, and television shows.  The Witch’s March is no different… Urban legends still swirl around Himmler and his beliefs, and many of these stories and theories border on fantasy.  Despite Himmler being the most famous fanatic, there is actually a great deal of evidence that Hitler and his inner circle were very interested in mysticism and dark magic.

Himmler reportedly believed that the occult was the key to Aryan supremacy. As he grew in power and prominence within the German high command, his obsession with the mystic and arcane only increased more and more. He became fascinated by ancient history, but twisted it to fit his own needs and cause.

Not only was he interested in lost civilizations and distant ancestors – some of whom he tried to contact through seances – but he even started seeing his SS officers as a form of holy knights, similar to the Templar and Teutonic orders.

He was not alone in this, of course. Himmler was only one of many Nazi’s who collected books relating to matters of the occult. However, it is generally recognized that Himmler was particularly influenced by this movement. His beliefs influenced the way that he ran the SS and possibly are the reason for their extreme brutality during the war.

A 13,000-volume library – collected by Himmler – was found in a depot of the National Library of Czech Republic near Prague. The depot had not been accessed since the 1950’s.

Bjørn Helge, Norwegian Masonic researcher, told Verdens Gang (a Norwegian newspaper) that some of the books were seized from the Norwegian Order of Freemasons in Oslo during Nazi occupation of the country. Himmler had many occult books taken from countries occupied by the Germans.

Himmler founded the H Sonderkommando in 1935. The ‘H’ stood for ‘Hexe’ which is the German word for ‘witch.’ Their mission was to collect as much information as possible on sorcery, the occult and the supernatural.

In The Witch’s March series, we follow the brutality of Himmler through one of his (fictional) knights, Ehrhart König.  He sees the power of blood magic from our protagonist, and like any good villain, decides he wants it for himself.  For that very reason, though, blood magic isn’t what it’s often made out to be.  It’s a weapon that can be used by both sides – good and evil.  Magic is all about perception…

The Witch’s March: A Trilogy

“The more blood that is spilled, the more powerful she becomes… and there is plenty to spare in the middle of a war.”
 
Harriet Lange is daughter to one of the most powerful wizards in the world. His traditionally chauvinistic values forced her to secretly Bind to Blood magic and teach herself everything she knows, but the rarity of her forbidden powers make her that much more formidable on the battlefield.
 
Edwin Wright is loyal to a rivaling coven. He is the best pilot the British have to offer and a master of the elements. Thrown into leading a mismatched crew, he must find a way for their team to defy all odds and save enchanted prisoners of war before the enemy’s experiments weaponize their magic.
 
Albert Thys is an axe-wielding dwarf with a mind for explosives. His trust is hard to earn, but fierce once won. Having lost his family to a German air strike, he is boiling with the need for revenge. With dragons and airplanes both dominating the skies, his flair for bomb engineering proves more valuable than gold.
 
Rada Medved is a Russian Night Witch, and one of Germany’s greatest threats from the east. Having lived all of her life in the skies, she’s more than ready for her chance at combat.  Fighting skepticism and sexual harassment on the ground, she breathes in freedom and vengeance in the night skies when she takes down the Nazis one plane at a time.
War is inevitable. Death is coming. The only question is: will you hide, or will you fight?

The Witch’s March: Sneak Peek

Prologue: Afternoon Visitors

23 August 1914

 

The only sounds in Mons were of gunfire and death.  Hattie had done what she was supposed to and continued healing injured soldiers at her post until the nurses had been ordered to retreat with the injured soldiers.  Since she was woken up at dawn to news German soldiers had reached the city, though, there had been only one thought echoing around in her skull: Joey was out there, and he could die while she sat in the background.  Now free from her obligations to the wounded, Hattie was more determined than ever to do her part at the front-line and save her brother.  She walked with relaxed shoulders and purposeful strides, trying to keep her face down and away from possibly prying eyes.  With the backline’s attention already torn between defending against the Germans and evacuating the city’s remaining residents, the soldiers’ attentions naturally glazed over the nurse, even as she walked towards the danger.

The blood of the dead flowed through her, fueling her magic despite the grief it struck.  She let the familiar warmth settle inside her as her eyes scanned face after face for Joey. Surviving commanders shouted orders of retreat from the closest salient.  They definitely wouldn’t direct her further into the battle.  She ignored them and walked on.

“You there – nurse.”  Of course, people were bound to question a five-ten woman in the middle of a war zone eventually.  She turned to a white-mustached British officer with a large nose and tired eyes.  “How did you get this far into the city?  You need to evacuate now.”

“I’m not in the military, nor am I one of the queen’s subjects, so I’m afraid you don’t get to tell me to leave,” Hattie said.  She shifted her pocketknife out of her sleeve and reached it underneath her low bun to the never fully healed scar there, slicing into the thick skin.  The magic bled out of her like a boiling kettle, furnished by the climbing number of hundreds of corpses around her.  It was nearly overkill to do a simple distraction skill.

The officer walked towards his men to continue shouting orders as if he had never seen her at all, and she continued forward on her search.  She knew Joey was there; she could feel him.  With her spell, he would walk right past her if she didn’t stop him.

Now at the front line, with only stacks of sandbags protecting them from the Germans, she found it harder to hide her desperation.  Where was her brother?

The gunfire was ringing, forcing her to put her hands over her ears as she looked around.  The power flowing from the blood in her small cut was dizzying.  When she spun around to turn down another street, she nearly sobbed in relief when she saw him.  He was leaning against one of the shorter stacks of bags, gun in hand as he peaked around the line.

“Joey!” she shouted, hurrying towards him.  His chocolate brown hair was buzzed short to his scalp, his mustache surrounded by growing scruff.  Bags drooped deep under his red-rimmed eyes, and his uniform was wrinkled and stained with sweat.  At her touch, her distraction spell’s power over him broke, and he jumped at seeing her so close, barrel aimed in between her eyes.  She didn’t blink.  “Joey, we have to hold them off.”

“Hat– what the f– what are you doing here?  How are you even in Belgium?” he asked, his grip immediately tight around her bicep.  “You– never mind.  You have to get out of here now!”

“Don’t be an idiot, Joey.  Artillery clearly isn’t enough to hold off the Germans, but we can do it together with our magic.”

“You’re the one being an idiot.  Get the hell out of here!” he said, pushing her back away from the sandbags.  “It’s not safe–”

Hattie didn’t distinguish the shots from the constant barrage of gunfire, but three bullets suddenly struck through her brother’s back all the same.  His eyes widened as three circles of blood formed, and he didn’t look away as he swayed.  An animalistic scream erupted from her throat as she hurried to catch him.  No, she just found him – they were supposed to be safe together.

He looked down at where the bullets had come out through his chest, the blood seeping through his uniform as the men around her suddenly noticed the pair.  She pressed her hand into the wound, the red warm against her palm as she began to whisper her healing spell.

Men started shouting and trying to pull her off of him.  She wouldn’t let them. She couldn’t.  Her spell wasn’t finished.

Joey coughed in a way that shattered her heart as a soldier pulled them both further behind cover.  Her brother looked up at her as men surrounded him, his mouth twitching into a smile before he completely collapsed.

His smile stayed frozen in place as the men lowered him to the ground.  Their attention only stayed on him for another brief moment before one of them pronounced him dead.

Hattie fell to her knees as the world was torn from beneath her.  Other soldiers grabbed her by the arms and began to drag her away, but she shook them off with a scream.  She tried to crawl towards him, but they wouldn’t let her.  Everything spun around her, except him.  As she looked at his body lying there perfectly still, she knew she was too late.

The chaos around her echoed back into words – men shouting orders of retreat.  Two men held either of her arms as they finally pulled her back, her eyes locked helplessly on her brother’s corpse.  Hattie growled before elbowing one of her captors in the gut, making him drop her.  Using all her weight, she swung to punch the other right in the nose.  It crunched beneath her fist, his blood pouring out to add fuel to her already raging fire.  She pried his hand from her arm before spinning around and bounding back to her brother.

His blood was her blood, and it spiraled through her like a shot of heroin.  She nearly glowed with magic trying to burst through her skin, and it mixed with her anger until her entire body boiled with rage.

Hattie ripped open his shirt, smearing his blood onto her fingers before tracing it on her forehead in a triangle.  Heaven.  Hell.  Earth.

Her kin’s blood rippled through her like a tidal wave, and she rose in a fury as the new power washed over her.  Hattie ignored the shouting from the frightened men and walked out from behind the safety of their walls.

Before any Germans could realize what was happening, she released her power like a machine gun.  It shot across the streets in a stinging gust, followed by silence as the temperature plummeted to freezing.

A single shot fired, and Hattie grunted as a bullet struck her in the shoulder.  She stumbled but refused to fall, her blood singeing her skin red as it soaked into her shirt.

Her hand cradled the wound as she stayed firmly rooted in place, her spell a whisper in the Germans’ ears.  Her voice came from everywhere, ringing around them like a hissing snake – but the spell wasn’t meant for them.

Jannada illali.  Caadabta aargudasho.  Dulkha buundo.

A mist crept from the shadows, and in its haze stood the ghosts of men answering the call to follow the witch’s march.

Instead of guns, these ghosts held bows.  Their pointed helmets faded in and out, the red crosses on their tunics sliding away like melting paint.  Hattie didn’t know which century they were from, and she didn’t care.  Her only concern was if they were as bloodthirsty as the day they’d died.

Her chanting grew louder, bouncing around the city’s walls as she beckoned the undead forward.  She called to them, and they responded by raising their bows.

Arrows shot through the streets like bullets, Hattie taking a fresh breath as she heard the thuds of German bodies falling to the ground.  She had never killed a man before, but she had no regret or hesitation.  One of those men killed her brother, and since she couldn’t be sure which one, she’d have to kill them all.

Hattie opened her mouth to shout the order, but it was as if the ghost soldiers could hear her thoughts.  They attacked her brother’s killers for her mercilessly, gliding through the streets as hundreds of arrows clouded the skies.  More and more of her enemies fell, and she bathed in the power of their blood.

“Look, it’s angels!  God is on our side!” she heard a Brit shout.  No, it wasn’t Him this time, but she didn’t mind giving Him the credit.

A bullet tore into her stomach, and she let out an unexpected yelp of pain.  Hattie pressed against the wound as the blood drenched her uniform in warm, crimson stains, both giving and taking her strength all at once.  She looked around as her soldiers persisted, an endless wave of arrows flying towards the enemy line, but the Germans were still advancing.  It looked as though even angels couldn’t stop the Devil when they were already in Hell.

Another bullet buried into her leg, and she fell to the ground.  Her archers continued their assault but crowded in front of her, forming a visible barrier for her even if the bullets would just fly through them.  She had done her part, at least for now.  Hattie crawled back towards the British line as her archers continued their assault.

It was clear that Hattie couldn’t win this battle, but she’d be damned if she lost the Great War.  A fellow Ally ran towards her, shouting nonsensical insults as he put her arm around him for support.  Her mind screamed that she wasn’t done yet – there was still more revenge to be reaped – but her body had completely given up.  Her legs sagged, and the Ally soldier held most of her weight as he dragged her into retreat.  She looked back one last time at her brother’s body as the soldier pulled her away towards safety.

No, she wasn’t done yet.  Not by far.

~*~

            The battle had taken nearly the entire day, but as the sun began its descent in the sky, at long last the Germans could finally claim victory.  They were to move west soon, but no soldier would miss the opportunity to scavenge the dead for supplies.  Fresh boots, ammunition, and sometimes even hidden snacks were too valuable.

Victory or no, the men were all still unnerved from what had happened.  They argued over what they had seen.  Some imagined they were angels, while others said they must’ve been demons.  A few lunatics even claimed that a witch had resurrected them from the dead.

Generaloberst König, this one’s alive!” a German cadet shouted.

The colonel general turned to the proclamation of a survivor, making the cadet’s face pale, for half of his superior’s face was burned so deeply he could see the actual muscles tick within his jaw.  The story was that König’s latest encounter with an Element Focuser, and he let the false rumor spread.  It was better than the truth.

Colonel General König walked over to his shouting subordinate and looked down at the mostly dead, muttering Ally soldier.  It looked as though the bullets had just missed his heart; one a few centimeters to the left, and they would be dealing with another corpse instead of a potential prisoner.

An American, and by his smell, also a wizard.  The colonel general smiled.  How long had he waited for this chance?  “Get this man a doctor.  I need him alive.

The Witch’s March: History Fact #5

On October 8, 1941, Stalin gave orders to deploy three all-female air force units.  They followed twelve commandments, the first being “be proud you are a woman.”  However, the women were given the oldest and noisiest airplanes.  Their engines would conk out halfway through their missions so that the women would have to climb out on the wings midflight to restart the propellers.  The planes were so noisy that to stop the Germans from hearing them, they’d climb up to a certain height, coast down to German positions, drop their bombs, and then quickly flee.  The women would fly in groups of three airplanes at night, with two of them acting as ‘spotlights’ and distracting the German planes while the third cut off their engines and then quickly coast down to drop their bombs.  The only noise this action was make was a “whoosh” that the Germans compared to the sound of a witch’s broomstick.  This, combined with their nocturnal attack times, led the Germans to give them the name “Night Witches”.  Additionally, once they learned that the successful Russian air teams were made entirely of women they reasoned two possibilities: (a) the women were a group of criminals and thieves forced to fight on the front as punishment, and were used to killing or (b) they had been injected with some secret serum that gave them the ability to see in the dark.

In addition to the terrible engines, their airplanes also had limited weight capacity and their funding was given very low priority.  This meant that they lacked “luxury items” that their mile counterparts used, including: parachutes, radar, guns and radios.  They were instead given rulers, stopwatches, flashlights, pencils, maps and compasses.   This didn’t stop their success on the front, though, as their leader flew over 200 missions and was never captured.

In The Witch’s March, what kind of urban fantasy war female author would I be if I didn’t include such a powerful group of Allied women that did so much for their country and the war who are SO aptly named?!  In my series, Rada Medved is a Night Witch who also happens to be an actual witch.

The Witch’s March: History Fact #4

The Austro-Hungarian Empire was a constitutional monarchy in Central and Eastern Europe between 1867 and 1918.

When thinking of World War I, Budapest isn’t a city that often comes to mind, even though it served as capital to its empire.  With energy that rivaled Vienna and café society that rivaled Paris, Budapest entered the 20th century on the rise.  And although it never saw enemy faces inside its walls, the city was destroyed by the Great War all the same.  Although I take liberties to bring a group of Allies into the city, it wouldn’t be fair for me to not divulge into how terrible war can be even when it’s not right at your doorstep…

World War I helped lead to the collapse of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, and not only that but half of the Hungarian population was cut away by the Treaty of Trianon and made part of surrounding nations.  From 1918 to 1919, Budapest was shaken by two revolutions: The Aster Revolution followed by two years of White Terror.

The Aster Revolution received its name because the revolting citizens placed aster flowers in their hats and caps to symbolize support for the Hungarian National Council and Count Károlyi.  They even took it upon themselves to demobilize soldiers in the city.  They murdered the former Prime Minister István Tisza and forced Prime Minister Sándor Wekerle to resign.  By the end of the day, King Charles IV was forced to accept them and Károlyi became the new Prime Minister.  One of his first acts?  Dissolving the Austro-Hungarian union.

The victorious Entente powers then took steps to carve out any ethnicity that wasn’t white, including Czechoslovakia and Romania.  The overall efforts resulted in Hungary losing two thirds of its land area and one third of its Hungarian-speaking nationals.  You don’t have to be an expert in socioeconomics to understand that this drastic change was bound to pull out problem after problems…

The nation’s attempts to form a single stable government failed, and by March of 1919 communists had taken over.