One hundred and One, falling out of the sky

I stare at my reflection, lightly shown in the window due to the dimness inside our carrier. I lift the dog tags from around my neck, Seargent Buck Ross was imprinted on them. Might lose these today, I think to myself, Staring at the Dark green Iguana...

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THE FRONT: PART 10

The rain continued, pouring down in a seemingly endless shower. It was cold and even Scott's thick fur wasnt doing much to help keep him warm. He was worried, he didn't want Wynter to die, if he did then he would become a sergeant, and Scott dreaded...

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THE FRONT: PART 7

"You my friend, are lucky, the shrapnel merely tore some skin and fur away, however you did have minor stage hypothermia so we are keeping you for observation." Scott nodded, his wounds were bandaged up and he was lying on a cot, knowing with a sort...

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THE FRONT: PART 6

Scott didn't know how long the battle lasted after the lieutenant rescued him, but eventually the screams, and the dreadful artillery blasts quieted and soon all was quiet except for the occasional moan from the odd wounded anthro left alive by the...

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THE FRONT: PART 2

Scott awoke in the dim confines of a dugout, the failing light of late evening spilled through the opening hole and Scott blinked several times to adjust his vision. Wynter was talking to a medic outside, a young rabbit who looked like he'd rather be...

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In Soviet Nazi Germany, Communism Eats *YOU*

I started this when we got into world war i in history class so i would be ready when world war ii history came around, and then released it on 4/20, hitler's birthday. no, there is no killing or hating in this except when the butter monster dies.

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THE FRONT: PART 8

"Redeem myself? What the hell was I thinking?" Scott asked himself, he was back in the trenches, their earthen walls closing in on him as he sat in his dugout and tried to avoid the rain. It had been raining for nearly a week now, but the German...

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THE FRONT: PART 4

The rain resumed again, and the steady tapping noise only served to shatter Scott's nerves further. He raised his rifle and pointed it through the parapet slit and used the barrel to knock the decaying arm out of sight. That made him feel slightly...

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THE FRONT: PART 3

The dark wrapped around Scott like a cloak, and although his ears were pricked all the way up, and although there was practically no noise Scott was still sure that there were Germans in the dark, waiting for the right moment to pounce and slit his...

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THE FRONT: PART 1

The trench was damp, and littered with shell casings, and empty ration tins, and as Scott splashed into the ankle deep mud, several men looked up at him from dugouts, small rooms carved into the sides of the trench. "Replacement." One of them said...

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Those Magnificent Women in Their Flying Machines (Heat 14 preview)

This story is set during world war ii and took inspiration from the women's airforce service pilots. you can find the product order page (with details on all the stories, comics, and poetry) at http://swp.im/p/h-14.

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THE FRONT: PART 9

Scott walked briskly through the mud, his paws stained with Private Martin's blood. He had caught up with the two anthros carrying Private Martin and had taken his legs, making the dead anthro considerably easier to carry. "Corporal, we need to see...

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