Se han añadido a la galería nuevas fotos de presentación de todos los modelos de Panzerbricks, en forma de viñetas:

Gerade erleben wir in Hanoi einen schönen Spätherbst mit Temperaturen um 25° C!
Am Wochenende hatte unsere Uni einen Ausflug nach Hai Duong für die Studenten des 2. Semesters und uns organisiert.
Mit gemieteten Reisebussen meisterten wir den Trip nach Hai Duong, auch wenn die Vietnamesen im Bus wieder singen mussten und wir zwischendurch einen anderen Weg einschlagen mussten, da eine Straße aufgrund eines Unfalls gesperrt war.
Die Universität ist ja nach dem ehrenwerten Herrn Nguyễn Trãi benannt, für den es dort das Con Son Monument gibt, das wir uns mitsamt Pagoden angeschaut haben.

Einen Tag habe ich mich hier dann mal wieder
als Tourist gefühlt
Habe mir mit ein paar Freunden die Ein-Säulen-Pagode (Chùa Một Cột) angesehen, zu der es auch eine nette Legende gibt:

Dem kinderlosen König Lý Thái Tông erschien im Jahre 1049 im Traum eine auf einer Lotusblüte sitzende Göttin, die ihm einen Sohn überreichte.
Als er dann kurze Zeit später wirklich Vater wurde, ließ er die Pagode aus Dank in Form einer Lotusblüte erbauen.
Die Originalpagode wurde leider schon 1954 von den Franzosen vor ihrer Flucht zerstört, sodass man sich nun nurnoch einen Nachbau anschauen kann.

Eben diese Pagode auf einem Pfahl befindet sich unweit des Ho Chi Minh-Mausoleums, ein massiger Betonklotz, dem man seine sozialistische Bauweise sehr ansieht.
Den Besuch haben wir uns aber gespart, da die Lust auf Unmengen von Ausstellungsstücken von und mit Ho Chi Minh nicht so da war.
Stattdessen bin ich mit Gregor in das Armeemuseum von Hanoi gefahren
Dort gibt es zum einen ruhmreiche vietnamesische Armeefahrzeuge russischer Bauart zu sehen und zum anderen erbeutetes Kriegsgerät aus dem Krieg gegen die Franzosen und Amerikaner.
Viele Vietnamesen haben natürlich wie wild Gruppenfotos vor den Panzern und Kampfflugzeugen gemacht, unglaublich ^^
Im Innenteil des Museums gab es viele Fotografien, Schriften und Handfeuerwaffen zu sehen.
Hier hat man relativ stark die Propaganda des Staates bemerkt: Es war von “unseren Truppen” die Rede, es gab Fotos von barmherzigen nordvietnamesischen Soldaten und  der Sieg des Krieges war eben überall ein großes Ding.
Ist ja auch eine Leistung sich erst der Invasion der Franzosen und danach der Amerikaner im eigenen Land zu erwehren.

Draußen war es trotzdem interessanter, weil viel anschaulicher
In der Mitte des Hofs steckt nämlich ein B-52 Bomber senkrecht im Boden und von hier an lasse ich am besten die Bilder sprechen!

After the end of WWI, and the dissolution of the Austro-Hungarian empire, a new state called Czechoslovakia was formed in 1918, consisting of the regions of Bohemia, Moravia, Silesia, Slovakia, and Carpathian Ruthenia. Many different ethnicities resided within this newly formed country, including Germans, Slovaks, Hungarians, and Ruthenians, living alongside the majority Czech population.

In the western-most region of the country, in the provinces of Bohemia, Moravia, and Silesia, there lived a majority German-speaking population, many of whom had been former subjects of the Kaiser before the fall of the Second Reich. This region was known in German and English speaking countries as Sudetenland, named for the Sudeten mountain range that ran thru Silesia along the Polish border.

At the end of WWI, these Sudeten Germans, known as Sudetendeutsche, pushed hard for unification with Austria, in the ultimate hopes of being incorporated into Weimar Germany. The Czechs, however, pushed US President Woodrow Wilson equally hard for the annexation of Sudetenland to Czechoslovakia. Wilson responded by sending an ambassador to the region to access the situation. At this time in European history, oppression of ethnic and religious minorities was common, and the situation was no different in a figurative melting pot like Czechoslovakia. After witnessing a violent crackdown on Sudeten German protesters by the Czech authorities, Wilson’s ambassador suggested that most of Sudetenland would be better off under German or Austrian rule, but his suggestion was ignored. Those observing the situation knew that Sudetenland would one day become a problem in the future, either for the Czechs at the hands of Germany, or for the Sudeten Germans at the hands of Czechoslovakia, but given the region’s ample resources, and massive industry, which the Czechoslovak State would come to depend on, the Prague government insisted that Czechoslovakia could not survive without it.

During the years after the end of WWI, the Czechoslovak government undertook a massive program of fortifying the Sudetenland along their border with Germany, in fear of invasion. Many of these fortifications were nestled into the Sudeten mountains, and were thought by most military analysts at the time to be even more formidable than the infamous Maginot Line in France. Naturally assuming that any German invasion would have to come thru Sudetenland, the Czechoslovak government didn’t spend nearly as much time, money, or resources fortifying the rest of the country, although there were a similar, though less formidable set of defenses along the Hungarian border as well.

When the Great Depression devastated the worldwide economy in the 1930’s, Sudetenland was hit particularly hard by the downturn, as most all of Czechoslovakia’s industry was located there; armaments, textiles, glassworks, etc… Many ethnic Germans lost there jobs when the factories were forced to lay off workers, and a majority of them blamed the Czech government for their problems. Given their newfound hardships, they became all the more susceptible to communist and socialist messages. Marxist and Fascist parties gained popularity amongst the Sudeten Germans and many Pan-German organizations were formed. One party in particular, called the Sudetendeutsche Party (SdP), an ultra-nationalist/separatist group led by Konrad Henlein (ironically an anti-Nazi until the pro-Nazi element within Czechoslovakia attained power), gained a rather large following amongst Sudeten Germans, after aggressively agitating for union with Nazi Germany and making impossible demands that the Czechoslovak government couldn’t possibly accept. His philosophy was summed up by the following statement; “We must make demands that cannot be satisfied”. Adopting the Nazi phrase “Ein Volk, ein Reich, ein Führer” (one people, one empire, one leader) as his own, Henlein’s SdP attained a majority vote in Sudetenland by the late ’30s, and was behind a number of terrorist attacks and coup attempts against the Czechoslovak government. These attacks failed and Henlein was forced to flee to Nazi Germany in 1938, where he then became a guerilla leader and launched covert attacks on Czechoslovakia from the north. He was instrumental in influencing Hitler’s enthusiasm in regards to the Sudeten Crisis and also played a major role in shaping the Munich Agreement. 

On Sept. 30th, 1938, Hitler signed the Munich Agreement, or Munich Pact, with a number of other signatories, including British Prime Minister, Neville Chamberlain, and Fascist Italian leader, Benito Mussolini. After making numerous threats against Czechoslovakia, demanding the handover of the Sudetenland, the major European powers, England, France, and Italy, moved quickly to appease Hitler, as they had done only months earlier when Austria was annexed to the Third Reich in “Anschluss” (meaning link-up). A conference was held in Munich, as the title Munich Agreement would imply, in which the fate of Czechoslovakia was to be determined, yet Czechoslovakia had no say in the matter. Their ambassadors were barred from the conference altogether, at the behest of Hitler, and were forced to sit by quietly as their country was mutilated by Nazi daggers wielded by the very countries (i.e. Britain and France) who had guaranteed to protect Czechoslovakia from the very actions their own statesmen were undertaking. With a stroke of the pen, and a friendly handshake with der Führer, Neville Chamberlain and Édouard Daladier signed over virtually all of the Czechoslovak defenses and industry to Nazi Germany. In addition to the formidable mountain fortifications, which Hitler personally inspected after the pact was made, the famous Škoda Works armaments plant, which was responsible for the production of most all of Czechoslovakia’s armaments, was ceded to the Nazis as well. In fact, the Škoda Works was responsible for the production of the LT-35 and LT-38 tanks, more commonly known by the German name Panzer 35(t) and the Panzer 38(t), which were originally Czech creations. Both models would ultimately serve as the foundation in the invasions of both Poland and France. 

After the Munich Agreement had been signed, Czechoslovakia lost all faith in the West, and would not forgive the governments of Britain and France for their backstabbing until many years later. Oddly enough, Hitler was just as angry. He reportedly loathed the diplomatic dealings of Chamberlain and felt he had been made to act like a democratic bourgeois, threatening that “If that silly old man (Chamberlain) comes interfering here again with his umbrella, I’ll kick him downstairs and jump on his stomach in front of the photographers”. Fearing war might result if nothing could be agreed upon, the British population received the pact favorably and felt they had dodged the bullet, literally and figuratively. In what has become one of the most infamous moments in history, Chamberlain returned to London waving around Hitler’s signature in his hand, exclaiming that he had delivered “peace for our time”… which, in retrospect he most obviously did not. The French ambassador to the conference, Édouard Daladier, however, sensed that the worst of it was yet to come, stating that he believed Hitler’s aim was, “domination of the Continent in comparison with which the likes of Napoleon were feeble”. Unfortunately, as fate would have it, Daladier was right and Chamberlain was wrong. 

By signing the Munich Agreement, Britain and France neutered Czechoslovakia by handing their most formidable defenses to Hitler. This laid the groundwork for the total annexation of Czechoslovakia by Nazi forces, which would take place the following year when the Wehrmacht entered Prague. In addition to this, virtually all of Czechoslovakia’s industries, including the Škoda Works, were made part of Hitler’s war machine, and many of the Panzers that came off of the Škoda production lines were responsible for the deaths of Allied soldiers, in addition to the capture of Paris and Warsaw. Without a doubt, the Munich Agreement set the Allies back for years in terms of their struggle with Hitler. The pact strengthened Hitler’s hand, and weakened the Allies all in one fell swoop. While the goal of “peace in our time” was a noble one, Chamberlain’s dreams of a pacifist Europe were not met by reality. Hitler was very clearly on the warpath and had Britain and France recognized that before it was too late, and had they actually lived up to the obligations they made with countries like Czechoslovakia, Hitler’s war machine may have been stopped years sooner than it was, and millions of lives would’ve been spared. The Škoda Works alone were responsible for untold carnage within the Allied ranks… the same Škoda Works that had belonged to the Allies prior to 1938.

Als Plattenpanzer wird eine aus körpergerecht geformten Metallplatten bestehende Rüstung bezeichnet. Er stellt eine Form von Schutzkleidung dar, die im Kampfeinsatz z. B. vor Stichwaffen schützen soll. Plattenpanzer, die einen Großteil des Körpers schützten, kamen gegen Ende des 14. Jahrhunderts in Westeuropa auf und fanden bis in das 17. Jahrhundert hinein Verwendung. Dabei wurden sie ständig weiter entwickelt, den Plattenpanzer gibt es so gesehen nicht. Während die wichtigsten Teile derartiger Rüstungen meist nur aus einer oder wenigen Stahlplatten bestanden, mussten bestimmte Körperteile durch zahlreiche Metallschienen (Geschübe) oder durch Kettengeflecht geschützt werden, um dem Träger eine möglichst hohe Beweglichkeit zu gewährleisten. (Wikipedia)

Der auf dem Foto zu sehende Plattenpanzer befindet sich im Bauernmuseum Blankensee, ist aber leider nicht datiert. Ich vermute jedoch 15. Jahrhundert. Gut zu erkennen ist der weitverbreitete Hundsgugel. Wikipedia weiß dazu:

Die Hundsgugel ist ein mittelalterlicher europäischer Helmtypus, der sich in der Mitte des 14. Jahrhunderts aus der Beckenhaube entwickelte. Bis etwa 1420 war die Hundsgugel die bevorzugte Helmform der Ritter und ritterbürtigen Krieger, wurde allerdings auch von wohlhabenderen nichtritterlichen Kriegern verwendet. Der Name leitet sich vom einer Hundeschnauze ähnelnden Visier und der Gugel ab.

Brillante recreación del SdKfz 11 por parte de mrutek. El SdKfz 11 fue el tractor semioruga utilizado por el ejército alemán para el arrastre de las piezas ligeras de artillería y de los cañones medios antitanque. Podía transportar, además de la pieza, a sus servidores y un pequeño cargamento de munición para su uso inmediato.

 El modelo de LEGO, de escala algo mayor que la escala minifig, está motorizado e incluye multitud de detalles. Cabe destacar los detalles de la cabina y los armeros laterales, totalmente funcionales. Además, el diseño del tren de rodadura de las orugas está magníficamente conseguido, dándole al vehículo un aspecto muy similar al modelo real.

Para ver más fotos, pincha aquí.

Zwei brandneue Spots von Guiness und Carlton Dry…

Guiness
Werbeagentur: AMV BBDO, London
Executive Creative Director: Paul Brazier
Creative Director: Paul Brazier
Regie: Johnny Green
via W&V

Carlton Dry
Werbeagentur: Clemenger BBDO Melbourne, Australia
Executive Creative Director: James McGrath
Creative Director: Ant Keogh
Art Director: Cameron Harris
Text: Seymour Pope
Regie: Ben Wheatley
via Ads of the World

Please click photo

This book is a Japanese tank magazine.

The tank of World War II.

A present-day tank.

Run scenery of a tank.

Description of a tank.

The person who likes a tank needs to see.

Thank you for seeing.

Please click photo

This book is a Japanese tank magazine.

The tank of World War II.

A present-day tank.

Run scenery of a tank.

Description of a tank.

The person who likes a tank needs to see.

Thank you for seeing.

El pub Berlín, uno de los locales roqueros de Cáceres por excelencia, celebra su 18º aniversario por todo lo alto el 6 de noviembre.

Se celebrará una fiesta que contará con la actuación de los míticos Panzer,  además de un rockaoke posterior a la actuación.

El precio de la entrada es de 10€ y en él se incluye camiseta + cd + entrada + barrilada de cerveza.

German Panzer III in Russia in the summer of 1943.

German panzer troops change the roadwheels on a Panther (Panzerkampfwagen V) in Northern France in 1943.

unser Preis: 290 Euro

(ev. alte Preise bzw verkaufter Artikel)

Gold-Schmuck / Goldkette :
Gelbgold-Designer-Flachpanzer-Kette

Gold:

14 Karat / 585,  Gelbgold
Gewicht:  9,19 Gramm
Gesamt-Länge im geschlossenen Zustand gemessen:  50,0 cm
Breite der Kettenglieder:  5,0 mm  (ohne Verschluss gemessen)
Erhaltung:  neu
Typ:  Flachpanzer, eckige Glieder
Verarbeitung:  sehr hochwertig verarbeitet
    aufwendige Goldschmiedearbeit
    hochglanzpoliert
    massiver Karabiner-Verschluss

Echtheit und Wert:

Neues Echtheits-Zertifikat / Wert-Gutachten ist vorhanden
    und wird mitgeliefert (als ausführlicher Laborbericht,
    gerichtsverwertbar und von Versicherungen anerkannt).

Wiederbeschaffungswert  laut Gutachten:

800 Euro

unser Preis: 290 Euro

(ev. alte Preise bzw verkaufter Artikel)

hier klicken zur Original-Seite :
DESIGNER FLACH-PANZER GOLDKETTE GELBGOLD, 14K GOLD SHOP

derzeit lieferbarer Schmuck, Diamanten und
Armband-Uhren bitte HIER KLICKEN

Gewerbegruppe Gunar Mayer Fahrner GmbH

www.juwelenmarkt.de:  Informationen und Gelegenheiten
Schmuck und Diamanten und Luxus-Armband-Uhren
Gesellschaftssitz Brunnthal    Geschäftsführer: Gunar Mayer
Lärchenstr.14    85649 Brunnthal
Telefon: 08104-88899-25    Fax: -24    1@ggm1.de
Handelsregister B Amtsgericht München HRB 159434
Steuernr.: 143/140/80026    UID-Nr.: DE814570759

Designer, Flach, Panzer, Goldkette, Gelbgold, Gold, Kompetenz, Ankauf, Verkauf, Juwelier, Goldkette, Goldketten, Gold, Ketten, Goldarmband, Goldarmbänder, Gold, Armbänder, Kette, Ketten http://www.juwelenhandel.eu http://www.anfertigung.eu Ankauf Gold Goldankauf Altgold Bruchgold Edelmetalle Münzen Barren Moral SCHMUCK DIAMANTEN UHREN – KOMPETENZ – ANKAUF – VERKAUF – LEXIKON http://www.brillant-schmuck.eu http://www.diamanten.me.uk http://www.juwelier-24.de http://www.platinschmuck.eu http://www.zuchtperlenketten.eu Ankauf Zahngold Zahngoldankauf Zahn Gold Goldzahn Zaehne Zahnkronen DESIGNER FLACH-PANZER GOLDKETTE GELBGOLD, 14K GOLD SHOP

@FAZ.NET

Chinlechelys tenertesta ein Missing Link unter den Schildkröten! Mehr…

Jeszcze raz pragnę w imieniu wszystkich podziękować za możliwość wzięcia udziału w tak świetnie zorganizowanej imprezie. Oby więcej takich w naszym kraju. Można śmiało powiedzieć, że Stępina wysoko zawiesiła poprzeczkę.

Yuri – świetna robota i gratulacje.

Zapraszamy do naszej galerii

unser Preis: 1329 Euro

(ev. alte Preise bzw verkaufter Artikel)

Gold-Schmuck / Goldarmband:
Dekoratives Gelbgold-Armband

Gold:

18 Karat / 750,  Gelbgold (Schnepper Weißgold)
Gewicht:  39,40 Gramm
Gesamt-Länge:  20,5 cm
Gesamt-Länge im geschlossenen Zustand gemessen:  19,4 cm
Breite der Kettenglieder:  22,1 mm  (ohne Verschluss gemessen)
Erhaltung:  neu
Typ:  drei Rundpanzer-Ketten mit Goldkugeln dazwischen
    oben gewölbt
    sehr geschmeidig und beweglich
Verarbeitung:  sehr hochwertig verarbeitet
    aufwendige Goldschmiedearbeit
    perfekte Designerarbeit
    oben gewölbt
    Rundpanzer-Ketten sind komplett mit dreidimensionalem
        Rautenstichmuster versehen
    Goldkugeln sind hochglanzpoliert
    1A-Kastenverschluss mit zwei Sicherheits-Achtern

Echtheit und Wert:

Neues Echtheits-Zertifikat / Wert-Gutachten ist vorhanden
    und wird mitgeliefert (als ausführlicher Laborbericht,
    gerichtsverwertbar und von Versicherungen anerkannt).

Wiederbeschaffungswert  laut Gutachten:

3.700 Euro

unser Preis: 1329 Euro

(ev. alte Preise bzw verkaufter Artikel)

hier klicken zur Original-Seite :
GOLDARMBAND 18K GELBGOLD RUND-PANZER GOLD-KUGELN LUXUS!

derzeit lieferbarer Schmuck, Diamanten und
Armband-Uhren bitte HIER KLICKEN

Gewerbegruppe Gunar Mayer Fahrner GmbH

www.juwelenmarkt.de:  Informationen und Gelegenheiten
Schmuck und Diamanten und Luxus-Armband-Uhren
Gesellschaftssitz Brunnthal    Geschäftsführer: Gunar Mayer
Lärchenstr.14    85649 Brunnthal
Telefon: 08104-88899-25    Fax: -24    1@ggm1.de
Handelsregister B Amtsgericht München HRB 159434
Steuernr.: 143/140/80026    UID-Nr.: DE814570759

Goldarmband, Gelbgold, Rund, Panzer, Gold, Kugeln, Kompetenz, Ankauf, Verkauf, Juwelier, Goldkette, Goldketten, Gold, Ketten, Goldarmband, Goldarmbänder, Gold, Armbänder, Kette, Ketten http://www.diamant-sonderangebote.de http://www.juwelenparadies.com Ankauf Gold Goldankauf Altgold Bruchgold Edelmetalle Münzen Barren Moral Gunar Mayer – Juwelier Ankauf – Diamanten Schmuck Uhren – Mister Wong http://www.zuchtperlketten.eu http://www.schmuck-24.de http://www.topjuwelen.de http://www.orientperle.eu http://www.diamantenmarkt.eu Ankauf Zahngold Zahngoldankauf Zahn Gold Goldzahn Zaehne Zahnkronen GOLDARMBAND 18K GELBGOLD RUND-PANZER GOLD-KUGELN LUXUS!

Una de las preguntas que más veces se han recibido últimamente, es sobre el origen de las armas de algunas minifigs que aparecen en las fotos de la galería de Panzerbricks. Pues bien, el misterio es muy sencillo. No son de LEGO, son de un pequeña empresa llamada Brickarms, gestionada por Will Chapman, que se dedica a hacer réplicas de armas compatibles con las minifigs de LEGO. A decir verdad son fantásticas, y en lo referente a las réplicas más relacionadas con los panzers podemos encontrar estas:

M24 Stielhandgranate de Brickarms

Maschinenpistole 40 de Brickarms

Además tenemos rifles y otras armas de otros contendientes, y toda una colección de diferentes armas modernas y antiguas. A ello hay que sumar nuevos prototipos que, parece ser, van a salir en breve a la venta, y que podrían incluir la pistola Luger, el Panzerfaust, la ametralladora MG 42 y el Sturmgewer 44.

Para más información visitad www.brickarms.com .

Magnífica creación del Obús de asalto autopropulsado SdKfz 142 por parte de Daniel Siskind. Con la exitosa aparición del carro de asalto Sturmgeschütz III G se decidió dedicar toda la producción de carros de este tipo a cañones anticarro, dejando de lado las variantes para apoyo a la infantería. Sin embargo, la insistencia de los comandantes y estrategas para disponer de un carro de asalto para apoyar a la infantería dio lugar a la aparición de un nuevo modelo, el SturmHaubitze 42, que iba dotado de un cañón corto de 105mm. y que fue muy bien acogido por su rendimiento en las unidades a las que fue asignado.

SturmHaubitze 42 de Daniel Siskind

 El modelo, construído a escala minifig, es muy bonito y muy bien dimensionado y su aspecto en conjunto está muy bien logrado. Incluye gran cantidad de detalles funcionales, como los portones, portillas y acceso al motor. El modelo puede desplegar con o sin los Schürzen laterales. Nuevamente, lo mejor de estos modelos diseñados por Daniel Siskind, es que pueden ser adquiridos en su web www.brickmania.com .

Mutec ist eine deutsche Firma, die Luxuslimousinen atombombensicher baut. Oder so ähnlich. Jedenfalls muss die Panzerung natürlich getestet werden, und das ist genau das, was in diesem Video passiert. Autsch *g*.

Achtung, ein Fluch geht um!

Ja, ihr lest Richtig ein Fluch, in einem Bild. In einem abstrakten Bild!

Definieren wir erstmal:

Abstrakte Bilder sind Kunstwerke, meist in grellen und/oder düsteren Farbe gehalten. Dadurch erzeugen diese Schinken eine sehr düstere Atmosphäre, bei der man am liebsten spontan losheulen wöllte. Dies wir jedoch durch die abnormale Abstraktheit verhindert: Man versteht schlichtweg nicht, warum man heulen möchte. Soweit klar? Nein? Auch gut.

Mein Namensvetter Martin hat sich in dieser Disziplin versucht, jedoch ist das Bild verflucht und man kriegt Kopfschmerzen davon. Deshalb sind bisher alle (!) Versuche der Redaktion, es zu interpretieren fehlgeschlagen. Nun bin ich dran und es scheint bisher zu klappen, damit ihr auch verflucht werdet, hier das Meisterwerk (klicken zum vergrößern):

So, des Künstlers Warnhinweis war, dass man der Giraffe (haha, wo ist sie bloß?) ja nicht ins Auge sehen sollte. Just nachdem  er diesen Satz von sich gab wurde er von einem Schwarzen Loch gefressen.

Künstler, Giraffe, Fluch hin oder her, jetzt wird interpretiert. Knallhart, schwarz auf weiß:

Zuerst einmal die oberflächliche Zusammensetzung: Grau, grell – häßlig. Dunkel, eben… Was soll uns damit nahe gelegt werden? Ist das Ende nahe? NEIN, ganz im Gegenteil: Durch die offensichtliche Düsterheit wird auf die jetzt schon düstere Welt der Menschen hingewiesen. Da sich doppelte Düsterheit addiert…

… WTF? FLUCH!!! ICH BIN GERADE BEIM BLOGGEN EINGESCHLAFEN!… weiter im Text,

…

Ja, … ähm, Scheiße: Inzwischen sind nun fast 19 Stunden vergangen, ich war erkältet, hatte Schüttelfrost und musste 3 mal kotzen.

Ich glaube trotzdem an keine Flüche.

Also: Durch die offensichtliche Düsterheit, welche sich in unserem alltäglichen Leben wiederfindet (z.B.: Physikunterricht, Ostergasse, …) spricht uns der Künstler ganz direkt an, das wird vor allem durch die beiden, masochistisch verunstalteten, menschenähnlichen Piktogrammen dargestellt. Während eines von einer orangenen Giraffe mit Laserblick gegrillt wird und sich dabei offensichtlich Gedanken über Radioaktivität, die Weltbank und Recycling macht, liegt sein Kollege in einer Phasenverschiebung am Boden (daher die Verzerrungen) und verabschiedet sich unter türkisfarbenem Lichtgewitter mit “ZAP! POW! BLAM” vom Angesicht dieser Welt, offenbar ein spontanes Auftreten von Antimaterie. Was soll uns damit gesagt werden?

Giraffen, wer kennt sie nicht? Diese nervigen Viecher, die die ganze Zeit in der Savanne um sich her rennen und dauernd langweilige Akazienblätter fressen. Wäre es nicht evolutionsbiologisch höchst sinnvoll, mal was aufregenderes zu fressen? Menschen? Wie soll Meister Giraffe aber Menschen jagen? Das Bild sagt es uns: Mit ihrem Laserblick! IMMA FIRIN’ MAH LAZER!!!111einself

Das ist sie, die schon fast apokalyptische Botschaft an die Menschheit. Entweder, werden wir irgendwann alle von Giraffen gefressen, wahrscheinlich werden wir es aber garnicht merken, da wir uns zuviel Gedanken über die Umwelt und Geld machen, oder wir vernichten uns selber mit Antimaterie und verschwinden alle im türkisfarbenen Licht der 4. Dimension.

Soweit, so gut, aber was ist mit dem Schaum und der Raupenkette los? Offensichtlich, wer denkt es sich nicht, wird hier eine Anspielung auf Black Metal gemacht (Raupenkette -> Panzer -> Waffe -> Krieg -> Black Metal), der in letzter Zeit immer softer wurde (Seifenblasen), aber es besteht immer noch Hoffnung auf Besserung (grüne Seifenblasen -> Farbe der Hoffnung). Natürlich werden Black Metaller nicht von der Apokalypse erfasst, es gibt keinen Anti-Black Metal und erst recht keine Giraffen mit Laserblicken, die Black Metaller fressen würden, was denkt ihr euch denn? Gerade deshalb findet die Existenz dieser Metapher nur am Rande des Meisterwerks statt. “Happy” steht natürlich für die Gesinnung dieses Musikstils.

Kommen wir nun zum braunen und grünen Dämon. Klar, dass der braune Dämon an Baphomet erinnert und somit wieder die glücklichen Black Metaller symbolisiert, die – als letzte “Menschen” auf diesem Planeten – sämtliche Errungenschaften, oder auch Informationen, durch Black Metal ersetzten werden. Das sieht man ausschließlich daran, dass Baphomet gerade das i verschluckt. Nun, sein grüner Kumpane. Verdammt, dass ist wohl eine harte Nuss, die uns Martin² dort hinterlegt hat. Ich tippe auf die Sonne. Wiedrum im Sinne der Hoffnung in grün gehalten – dort liegt sie, unsere Zukunft:

Um der Apokalypse zu entgehen muss die Menschheit auf die Sonne umsiedeln, nicht etwa auf den Mars. Das Gute an dieser Umsiedlung wird durch das überaus freundliche Gesicht der grünen Sonne symbolisiert.

Nun, der Rest zeigt natürlich alle möglichen Wirren und Wesen der Apokalypse und ihren Folgen dar, was durch psychedelische Farbwahl besonders deutlich wird, eine Form geht mir davon aber nicht aus dem Kopf: Am Fuße der Giraffe, offensichtlich ein Atomkern… zählen wir mal nach: 7 Nukleonen.

⁷Li

Das häufigste Lithiumisotop, scheiße… was sollen wir damit nur machen?

Garnix.

Gruß,

euer verfluchter Martin

Chapter 1

Near Uman, Ukraine, Dec. 23, 1943; 2:45 PM

The cold, thought Special Boat Squadron Corporal St. John Burnett. Bugger the cold. The wind pushed daggers through the tarp shielding his body, sliced through the layers of his sheepskin winter coat. Cold seeped through his boots and fur-lined gloves. It cut upward from the frozen soil that eventually might bear yellow oceans of sunflowers or swaying seas of wheat just six months from now. It condensed the core of his being into a quivering lump located somewhere near his liver. Burnett groaned softly as his chest muscles spasmed, rolling his shoulders forward as his body shook.

The forced inactivity was worse than paddling his folboat up the River Bug for three Russian winter nights. Worse than fighting the sudden surges of snowmelt that battered him from the stern. Worse even than the two soul-numbing nights he camped out in the rubble of a destroyed bridge before meeting up with the squadron of Ukrainian legionnaires.

Burnett slowly pushed his numb legs out from his fetal curl and willed his mind to imagine yellow. Daffodils in the Lake District before Easter. Marigolds glowing in the sun in his parent’s Dorset garden. Emily’s persimmon wisp of a silk dress, framed by weeping willows and cattails at the banks of the Thames near Windsor, where they had spent their last radiant summer weekend before he went to war. But it didn’t work. He then tried to visualize the blue swells of the Aegean where his unit was awaiting his return. Swilling red wine, he presumed, dining on lamb chops traded for American pork conserves from quiet, sweating Greek peasants.

It was no use.

All he could see was dirty white snow and frozen mud, overgrown with patches of man-high thistles whose frayed gray stalks had cracked and broken and bent down to the soil. And only when one of the six Ukrainians around him moved was there a shudder of field-gray uniforms. Cold. Again, his body cramped. Burnett thought long and hard before removing his sheepskin mitten, then fumbled a small container of benzedrines from a pocket. Numb fingers picked three of them and hastily pushed them into his mouth.

Bugger the bleedin’ cold. The information passed to MI6 by the German Panzer officer better be right!

Then he heard it. Faint at first, then gradually increasing in volume. The roar of three Maybach engines. Powerful 692 horsepower behemoths. Burnett imagined he could hear the rattle of the suspension system, formed by overlapping road wheels, whose only fault was that it occasionally would freeze solid in Russian winter nights. Suddenly, the chill and the spasms were gone. A rush of adrenaline, some natural, some blasted into his system by the bennies, poured through his frozen limbs. He raised his binoculars. He could see them now, three- then two-hundred yards away. Lumbering masses of grey. There were no Panzergrenadiere attached to the convoy. No bundled-up killers spoiled the stark outlines of the steel. Burnett grasped for the American-made anti-tank rocket launcher, felt for the German-made magnetic T-mines that were attached to his harness. He looked at the luminous face of his watch. Leave it to the damn Hun to be on time in a blizzard!

If anything, they were early.

Out of the whirling snow, three Tiger tanks solidified. They moved slowly. Fifteen miles per hour, calculated Burnett, their usual cross-country jog. The muzzles of their 88 mm KwK 36L/56 cannons were protected by stiff wraps of grey canvas. About fifteen miles behind the German lines, they didn’t expect trouble. Then again, few things could trouble a Tiger. Its two 7.92 mm machine guns could terminate all life in arcs of red-hot steel. And the main gun barrel, which reminded Burnett of a horizontal telephone pole, fired the dreaded PzGr 40 projectile. With a tungsten steel cap over an explosive core, its tip painted with phosphorous tracer, it could sear through armor plate five inches thick at 1,400 yards.

It was the 88 mm that had kept His Majesty’s Special Boat Squadron from requesting backup from the Soviets. That and the justified reluctance to sharing sensitive information with Stalin, figured Burnett. Russian armor would have been of limited use in the best of cases. Because the only thing that could stand up to a Tiger, smash through its 100 mm front and 60 mm side armor, were the Soviet T-34/76 and the KV-1. And even their frontal armor was inferior to the Tiger, which maintained the Germans’ standoff advantage over virtually everything the Allies could throw at it. To kill a Tiger, Allied guns had to get well into the range of the main gun. That meant movement, fast and frequent and without the benefit of cover—at the utter mercy of the Tiger’s main armament. And neither a Tiger nor the five Panzer soldiers inside its steel viscera were much inclined for mercy.

Because in this war, mercy meant you die first.

But where tanks were useless, human flesh was not. Men could close in unexpectedly where machinery couldn’t. Attack the weaker side armor and the tracks of the Tiger at point-blank range. With armor-piercing grenades and mines. With the bile and loathing of Abwehr-trained Ukrainian “Nightingales” turning on the Germans who had ravaged their country.

This was what he was here for. Burnett sprang into action. Six mounds of dirt and snow came alive and fanned out into pre-assigned positions.

Wedged between Panzer soldiers, Untersturmführer Katt, of the SS Panzer Division’s Heavy Tank Bataillon, adjusted the sights of the machine gun in front of him with practiced movements. According to his calculations, they’d be hitting the airfield in less than thirty minutes. Of course, you never knew. Even here, miles behind the front, there were Soviet infiltrators. Katt’s fingers traced the smooth surface of the metal Canister he held in his lap. He wondered again what would warrant an escort of three Tiger tanks. Then again, he had been a soldier long enough not to ask questions.

Outside, gusts of wind whipped up tattered white shrouds. But Katt was dripping beneath his tunic. The men around him, too, perspired heavily. Tank warfare smelled of sweat, fear, and heavy machine oil. These men were old hands at this game, a game that didn’t allow many to advance in years. Occasionally, Katt caught one of them glancing at the silver runes on his collar, the leering death head on his cap that he carried wedged into the opening of his tunic. And at the leaden weight of the Canister on his lap. The SS wasn’t popular among Panzer troops. But the prospects of spending a night at the airfield, eating Luftwaffe rations, emptying maybe a bottle or two of Krim champagne outweighed every bit of inquisitiveness the men could muster.

Then hell broke loose.

Suddenly, the tank was rocked by a thunderous blast. Forty-five tons of steel jumped straight up in the air. From one second to the next, the crew was pounded with the crashing and roaring of unleashed high explosive. Greasy red-hot smoke scorched deep into their throats and lungs, and their eyes seared with the bilious burn of superheated oil. Men were thrown about like puppets. Had it not been for the padded crash helmets, heads would have burst open colliding with the tank’s interior like ripe melons hit with a sledge hammer. Katt was thrown against the wall, his right eye destroyed from when it slammed into the machine gun in the first explosion.

The Tiger stood still, its tracks hanging in shreds. As the men took to the guns, the turret began to rotate. The 88 mm responded in shrieks of flame jetting from its breech-block. Red-hot shell casings clattered into the tank’s well where the overheated yellow brass instantly oxidized into swirls of blue and green and red. The tank was hurt. But very much alive…

Much to Corporal Burnett’s chagrin, the trap had sprung just a moment too soon. Be it fingers numb with the cold, be it nerves, one of the Nightingales had fired early and missed his target, the large tracks of the hindmost Tiger. While the other two-man teams succeeded in hobbling their assigned vehicles, one Tiger was on the loose: 692 horsepower of combustive mechanical fury reared against frozen humanity.

A Ukrainian commando, racing toward the immobilized Tiger with a magnetic T-mine in his hand, was blown to bits by a direct hit from the 88 mm. The tungsten steel projectile sheared his body in two at the belt, the upper torso spraying blood and bone splinters into the snow as the mine exploded.

The leading Tiger shook. Having blown its right track as a result of a full hit with the Anti-Tank Rocket, two Nightingales had been able to attach their magnetic T-mines to the sides and on the underbelly of the tank just as the rear escape hatch flew open and tankers scrambled into the open. The explosions cut through the side and bottom armor, triggering an internal chain reaction of exploding ammunition and fuel that blew the turret hatch off the tank from the inside in a bluish white geyser of metal and charred flesh. Both Nightingales hit the snow dead, their bodies rendered by steel splinters and human debris.

Smoke belched from the second Tiger. Flames licked toward its ruptured fuel tank. The crew tried to escape being broiled to death by pouring from the burning vehicle, only to be mowed down by Burnett’s submachine gun. That left four men to tackle the third Tiger.

But now the tables had turned.

Clutching the Canister to his chest as he scrambled from the roaring Tiger, Katt dove for a dip in the ground a second or two before his leading tank blew up. A blunt punch slammed into his lower body. He rolled into the hollow as the tank blew up behind him, partly shrouding the battlefield from his view. Retching from the stabbing pain in his guts, he rose to his knees.

The remaining Tiger’s machine gun was spitting armor-piercing projectiles at the surviving legionnaires. One was killed instantly as a neat, diagonal line of fist-size holes appeared in tattered red on his snow camo poncho. The other was caught in a blast of the flame thrower. His shriek cut out abruptly as the proteins in his brain congealed. Burnett watched in horror as the last survivor threw away his Panzerfaust and ran, T-mines still slapping against his body.

The Tiger fell silent, as if considering its options.

Then the Maybach thundered and the behemoth lurched forward after the running man. A second later, the predator caught up with its prey. Screaming, the man disappeared beneath the tracks.

The Tiger stopped. Then reversed a few yards.

Then advanced again, like a giant rocking horse—a hobnailed boot squashing an insect to death on the sidewalk. It succeeded… but not before the man had activated his T-mines.

The Tiger was flung up into the air. It flipped atop a rapidly expanding cloud of oily black smoke and landed on its back a hundred feet away. What life was left inside was extinguished by a cacophony of blasts as the ammunition responded to the fires.

Stunned, his eardrums destroyed from the noise and vibrations, Burnett rose to his feet. He looked at his watch. Two minutes ago, seven commandos and fifteen German soldiers had been going about their business. Now only one man was alive. In front of him, several million Reichsmark worth of equipment had turned into twisted scrap as three times eight-hundred liters of heavy fuel blazed skyward.

A funeral pyre for twenty-one men. Where snow and ice had melted, oily puddles stared like dead eyes from the black soil.

Emily, Burnett thought. Emily in the yellow silk dress, reclining against the weeping willows at the banks of the Thames. Emily, too, was dead. Buried alive in the rubble of a London apartment building during the first days of the Blitz.

It was the last thought Corporal St. John Burnett was able to entertain.

From a dip in the ground rose the scorched, tattered figure of an SS-man. His right eye was gone, his face a scarlet mask of pain and rage. His left arm clutched the dully metallic Canister into the bleeding mess of his lower body. His right hand, missing a finger and a half, remained surprisingly steady when he fired a single shot from his Mauser M712 pistol.

As his eyes stared ahead into eternity, a dime-sized hole appeared squarely in the middle of his forehead. Corporal Burnett, of His Majesty’s Special Boat Squadron, stiffly took two more steps before he collapsed.

Like a chicken, thought Untersturmführer Matthias Katt with a snarl that may have passed for a laugh with the gods of slaughter. Like a goddamn chicken with its head cut off.

He dropped the pistol, clutched his bleeding belly. The wind had picked up, grating his charred, raw face with blades of ice. Clumsily, he picked a compass from his tunic pocket. He aligned the needle, looked through the dancing stars and sparks that exploded inside his remaining eye, and then, holding the compass in front of him, he staggered on. Toward the airfield that he knew was an impossible seven kilometers to the West. The airfield with the Junkers 52 transport planes and the Krim champagne.

Of course, he knew he wouldn’t make it. He was already dead. Within a few minutes, he’d collapse in a snowdrift and bleed what remained of his life into the accursed Russian soil. But an SS man walks as long as he has legs. Until a higher authority issued new orders and covered up his broken body with a shroud of pure white.

Cradling the dully metallic Canister, he set leg before leg. Tears of rage and grief ran from his one good eye. Rage for the charred and mangled men he left behind in the dirt. Grief for his own short life spent in mud and muck, among the mutilated dead and those about to die. Dead man walking, he thought grimly. Just over the ridge ahead. Walk as long as you’ve got legs. Set leg before leg. Like a chicken.

A hoarse, rasping laugh escaped his raw throat and was snatched up by the wind.

Like a goddamn chicken.

The Lazarus Smile will be available as an e-book from Amazon.com on Nov. 1, 2009.

Diese Tanks sind vor 90 Jahren, im ersten Weltkrieg, von der russischen (zaristischen) Armee verwendet worden, und anschliessend von der bolschewistischen, roten Armee. Und dann standen sie herum und rosteten. Dass sie noch am Stück sind, liegt wahrscheinlich daran, dass sie aus dickerem Blech bestehen als Autos aus der selben Zeit.

Freunde der Militärhistorie (jeder hat so seine Hobbies…) gruben die Eisenkisten aus dörflichen Scheunen und anderen Schrottorten aus und renovierten sie. Irgendwie sehen sie nicht wie Zeugnisse glorreicher vaterländischer Kriege aus, sondern wie unnütze Maschinen aus eine comic-haft verzerrten Parallelwelt.

Aber Kriege und ihre Technologien sehen für nachfolgende Generationen immer so aus. Verzerrt, comic-schrill und parallelweltlich.

( via englishrussia) (pics: click > grösser)

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