Heart of Iron
by Enclave2277

Chapter 1
March 15, 1945: Berlin, Germany

The sounds of distant artillery salvos filled the air sounding much like a spring thunderstorm as an SS staff truck made its way towards the Berlin Museum of Archeology. The sounds of war were quite familiar to the newly promoted Lieutenant Johann Fritch. Johann sighed glumly staring out the window of the truck contemplating just how he had wound up getting assigned to this particular post. Just six months ago he had been Master Sergeant Fritch, commander of a squad of tanks belonging to the 503rd Heavy Panzer Division. His squad was responsible for defending the retreating infantry from the Russian advance near eastern portions of Germany. While the Germans had excellent tanks, the Soviets had more of them and they were not flimsy in their own right. While trying to defend his position Johann had stopped two Soviet T-34 tanks personally with his own tank but there were still six more that met his remaining four tanks.

Unfortunately for Johann the Soviet T-34s fired a devastating barrage of armor piercing rounds against the squad of tanks, including his own. One of the rounds had pierced the side of the tank, effectively crippling the machine and spraying shrapnel into anyone inside. Johann had the misfortune of getting a rather large piece stuck into his left leg. Luckily for Johann he could still drive his crippled tank and managed to escape back to German lines due to a last minute aerial bombardment on the Soviet tanks. Johann spent six months in a hospital undergoing rigorous physical therapy to treat his wounded leg. Near the end of his therapy a high ranking SS staff officer had visited him and presented him with three things.

“Good day to you captain” the SS colonel chirped.

“Ah and good day to you as well sir. What brings you to my humble hospital bed?” Johann replied politely.

“A man who likes to get straight to business, I like that. Very well master sergeant I have some good news for you. I read the report on your heroism on the battlefield and you are to receive the Iron Cross first class for your dedication and valor in service to the Third Reich.”

“A lot of good men died trying to defend that position…they deserve the medal more than I sir.”

“Well master sergeant they are dead and you still live, which makes you infinitely more useful. I have been giving medals to war heroes throughout the entire war and I find that many soldiers share your opinion, however dwelling on who earns a medal and who does not simply isn’t healthy.”

“Hmm very well sir I suppose you are right.” Johann sighed.

“Good I’m glad you understand, now onto the next order of business. You are to be promoted to the rank of lieutenant and accompanying that promotion a new post.”

Johann just sat on the hospital bed flabbergasted. After gaining some of his composure he began to ask the colonel some questions. “Sir what kind of posting will I receive and where?”

“Lieutenant I’m sure you’re well aware of the current threat the Reich faces from the marauding hordes of the allies and the soviets. Consequently, we need someone to help us coordinate the evacuation and eventual storage of historical artifacts from the many museums in Berlin.” the colonel replied.

“I read your dossier and it indicated that you had attended the University of Hamburg and earned a degree in Anthropology. Is this true lieutenant?”

“Yes sir I did attend the university prior to the war, but wouldn’t I be of more use in a panzer unit?” Johann inquired.

“Perhaps, if you were in top physical condition. While your leg injury has improved significantly over the last few months you are hardly fit to drive around in a panzer” the colonel explained.

“I just feel like what I’m doing isn’t very useful. I…I want to defend the fatherland with my own hands anything else just feels insignificant.”

The colonel smirked and nudged Johann in the ribs. “Oh come now lieutenant it’s not so bad. A nice cushy job away from the front lines is just what you need. Think of it as a gift from the Reich for all your hard work and dedication hmm. Your posting should be miles away from any Russian soldiers and all you have to do is load up antiques onto trucks, think of it as preserving the history of the fatherland for future generations.”

“Thank you sir, I will accept the post and I hope that I can still be of service to the Reich.”

The colonel responded with a tip of his hat and a quick salute. “Excellent I’m glad you did. We simply can’t have you sitting around collecting dust like some relic now can we? Now if you’ll excuse me, I have other business to attend to.”

The truck finally stopped in front of the Berlin Museum of Archeology. Johann gingerly exited the passenger side of the truck to find that two guards awaited his arrival. One of the guards appeared to be a sergeant and the other a corporal. Both guards were sporting the German army’s most common sub-machine gun the MP-40. Johann approached the two guards and they stood at attention with a crisp salute.

Johann returned the salute giving them a polite smile. “At ease gentlemen, you don’t have to be so formal with me.”

The two guards both had a combination of shock and confusion on their faces. A few seconds later the sergeant began to speak. “I’m sorry sir it’s just that we aren’t used to dealing with war heroes and in my opinion they deserve the utmost respect. Anything less would be an insult to you and the Reich.”

Johann mentally sighed but still maintained a polite smile. “Ah yes so everyone has been telling me. I appreciate the sentiment but a lot of good men died that day and…”

The sergeant gently interrupted Johann before the conversation turned dark. “I’m sorry sir I didn’t mean to hit a nerve. Corporal Dietrich and I will do our best to aid you and of course try to be a bit more casual.”

Johann let out a small chuckle. “It is alright sergeant I know you were just trying to be respectful. I just haven’t come to terms with my status as a war hero yet…it’s just very strange. I never would have thought I could go from commanding tanks to shipping dusty old relics.”

The sergeant made a clicking noise with his tongue. “I certainly can understand sir. You are a warrior at heart and wish to be on the front lines defending the fatherland. Oh I don’t believe I introduced myself yet sir. My name is Herrman.”

“Alright Sergeant Herrman what’s the first thing on the agenda for today?” Johann inquired.

“Well sir we were told by command that there are some Norse artifacts from Sweden on display on the second floor of the museum that need to be packed and shipped off to the north near Denmark.”

Johann couldn’t help but feel somewhat guilty. Once again artifacts from another country were decorating the interior of a German museum. Sweden of course could not demand they give the artifacts back at this point but Johann decided not to dwell on the blatant act of thievery, after all he had work to do.

Sergeant Herrman and Corporal Dietrich led Johann up the long set of marble stairs to the second floor of the museum. Sure enough there was a large display of various Norse artifacts arrayed in long, glass cases. Apparently the artifacts belonged to some minor Swedish noble named Yungvar the Frost Beard during the 1200s. Most of the objects seemed to be mundane in nature including chain mail, goblets, a rusty sword, and a battered helmet. One object caught Johann’s eye. It was a silver amulet with two unicorns on both sides holding a large sapphire in the middle. In all his studies at the University of Hamburg he had never seen Norse jewelry depicting a unicorn. Sure Norse people had believed that animals were important and certainly horses were considered valuable assets but never had he seen any depictions of unicorns. Unicorns were simply not part of Norse lore.

Herrman and Dietrich were busy packing other artifacts into crates while Johann picked up the amulet to further inspect it. Just then a strange sound broke Johann’s revery. It was a sort of grating mechanical sound agonizingly familiar. Johann couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Out of frustration he listened closer and to his horror he realized what it was. “My god…it’s a tank. Not just any tank but a T-34” he whispered to himself. Johann rushed over to the window and his worst fears were realized. Outside barreling down the street were two T-34s accompanied by roughly thirty Soviet infantrymen. “Shit” Johann swore under his breath.

Realizing the imminent danger he and the two guards faced Johann rushed over to Sergeant Herrman. In a strained voice Johann yelled “Herrman, Dietrich we need to get the hell out of here RIGHT NOW!!!”

“What’s wrong sir you look like you’ve seen a ghost?” Herrman asked with a look of confusion.

“You could say that Herrman, a group of two T-34s and about thirty Soviet infantry are about half a kilometer from the museum. We need to get out of here now; there is no chance that we can beat them back without mechanized support.”

“Shit…alright sir I will grab Dietrich and we can make our way out the rear exit of the museum.”

Just then the T-34s open fired on the museum collapsing part of ceiling near where Herrman and Johann were standing. Johann was knocked to the ground from the concussive force of the blast temporarily stunned. As he regained his composure Johann looked around to try and find Sergeant Herrman who was standing only a meter away from Johann. It was then that Johann looked over at a pile of rubble that collapsed from the ceiling to find a large red smudge and a severed hand next to the rubble. Johann had seen this kind of destruction far too often on the front for it to sicken him. Instead he focused his efforts on trying to find Corporal Dietrich.

Johann shouted in a raspy voice due to the dust kicked up by the roof collapse. “Dietrich are you still alive?”

“Yes sir I still live but I noticed the Soviets are closing in on our position. What of Sergeant Herrman sir?”

“Dietrich I- I’m afraid…he’s dead, crushed to death from the ceiling collapse” Johann replied in a strained voice.

Corporal Dietrich looked at Johann with the same kind of eyes that men showed right before they met their death. It was a mixture of sorrow and hardened steel resolve. “Sir if you ever see my sister Berta, please tell her that I love her and wish her well for her baby boy. I will hold off the Soviets for as long as I can. Please escape while you can sir.”

Johann gritted his teeth tears beginning to form in his eyes. “Damn it Dietrich you don’t have to do this…just come with me who knows we might just be able to…” Corporal Dietrich held up his hand to silence the major. “Sir I’ve spent the entire war as little more than a guard going from one assignment to the other without much action. This is my opportunity to do something worthwhile. It would be my honor to defend the life of a true hero. Now go sir.”

Johann watched as Dietrich began to position himself near the staircase that lead to the first floor. As Dietrich positioned himself the front doors of the museum burst open and 15 Soviet infantrymen poured into the building. The Soviet soldiers immediately noticed Dietrich on the top of the stairs and sprayed him with small arms fire, effectively tearing the corporal to shreds. With his nearest escape route to the first floor blocked off by Soviet troops Johann scrambled to find another access point on the second floor. To his horror he could hear the clatter of combat boots on the marble floor coming from the other side of the room. Johann realized he could take cover near the bullet proof display cases of the Norse exhibit. It was then he heard a voice call out to him in heavily accented German.

“We know you are in here you filthy fascist pig! You cannot hide forever. If you come out now I promise we will end your miserable life quickly” the Soviet commissar said in a sing song voice.

Johann sat behind the display case in a state of pure fear, knowing that he would be shot as soon as he even dared to move. He then noticed he was still holding the strange silver unicorn amulet in his hand. “Such a beautiful work of art, meant to last through the ages…unlike me. I only wish that this terrible war was over. I still wanted to do so much. I guess this is the end.”

The silver amulet started to glow in Johann’s hand bathing the room with a deep sapphire light. Johann could feel some sort of strange energy pulsing through it almost like a tingling sensation. The amulet continued to shine even brighter when suddenly there was an explosion of light and then darkness.

In the darkness Johann heard a faint whispering voice almost a hiss. “Rise warrior you yet live.Heed my warning this is not the land of your birth. We shall meet again soon.”

Johann felt something…something like grass. It was cool and wet from the morning dew. Johann slowly opened his eyes to find he was lying face down on a grassy plain. A few seconds later after gaining more of his composure back he continued to survey his surroundings. He was indeed sitting on some kind of grassy plain near the edge of a large forest. “How the hell did I end up here? The last thing I remember was waiting for my death in the museum. I don’t think I’m dead.”

Johann then remembered the strange voice that had whispered to him before he awoke. It had mentioned that he was not dead and something about this place not being “the land of his birth”. Johann went to rub his head and realized to his horror that he no longer possessed any fingers. He stared at what had once been his hand only to find a hoof. Panicking he looked down at himself to find his body was no longer human but covered in a thin coat of black fur and his feet had turned to hooves as well. On top of all that he was completely naked.

Johann trotted over to a small pond mainly to quench his thirst but also to get a better look at his new form. The reflection in the pond stared back at Johann showing a muscular stallion with a jet black coat. The mane and tail were a brilliant silver color and the eyes were green much like when he was a human. Johann turned to view himself from the side and noticed he had a strange tattoo on his flank. It appeared to be an iron cross. As he turned back to look at his face again he noticed that the amulet he had grabbed at the museum was hanging around his neck.

Judging by the position of the sun it was a little after midday. Throughout the entire commotion Johann hadn’t realized how hungry he was. Food would have to be his first priority. Johann drank a bit more water from the pond and decided to head out in search of food. Johann had his doubts about heading into the forest. First of all he had no knowledge of the local fauna or flora and there was a distinct possibility that he could become lost in the depths of the great evergreen forest. So he decided to travel towards the grassy plain, perhaps there might be a stream or a lake he could fish from. As Johann continued to travel he noticed a large grove of trees. The trees appeared to be apple trees. Apples were an excellent source of simple sugars which is exactly what Johann needed.

As Johann approached the apple tree he noticed that off in the distance was barn accompanied by a small farm house. “Perhaps there is civilization here after all. Maybe this is a farm of some kind?” Johann mused. He pushed that thought to the back of his mind, his hunger getting the best of him. “Even if these apples belong to someone I’m sure they won’t mind if I take a few.” Johann decided to put his new legs to use and bucked the apple tree and sure enough several apples fell to the ground. Unfortunately there were some birds in the apple tree and they squawked loudly and flew away. Out of the corner of his eye Johann swore he saw a light brown blur headed towards his position.

Just then the light brown blur came into shape. It appeared to be another horse sporting a light brown almost tangerine coat with a blonde mane and tail. It appeared to be wearing a hat and had a lasso in its teeth. Before Johann could react the tangerine colored horse threw the lasso around his legs and he hit the ground with a thud.

Once the shock of hitting the ground wore off, Johann witnessed something even more incredible the horse began to speak. “Stop right there ya apple thievin’ varmint. Those apples belong ta Sweet Apple Acres.”

Johann attempted to speak to the irate farm pony. “Miss I apologize for stealing your apples. I did not realize they belonged to anyone. I’m afraid that my hunger clouded my better judgment.”

The farm pony just gave Johann a strange look then started to chuckle. “Well butter mah flank and call me a biscuit. Yer the most polite thief I ever met. Well ah guess ya can have an apple or two, consider it Apple family hospitality. Come on I’ll show ya to the house.”

After the farm pony untied Johann’s legs they both walked towards the small farmhouse that Johann had seen earlier. “Sorry fer hog tying ya earlier. Ah just don’t like seeing mah hard work being vandalized, the name’s Applejack or AJ fer short.”

“I appreciate your understanding Ms. Applejack. Sadly, I find myself in a dire situation you see.” Johann thought for a moment. Perhaps it wasn’t the best idea to give his real name in this strange world considering how strange this farm pony’s name was. He noticed that this horse had a tattoo on her flank as well and sure enough it was a trio of red apples. “Maybe their names have to do with those strange tattoos” Johann mused.

“Oh I’m sorry I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Iron Cross.”

“Can’t say ah ever heard anypony with that kind of name. You ain’t from around here are ya?” Applejack asked.

“No, you could say that I am from a distant land, hence the problems with food. I’m afraid that I became lost traveling here” Iron Cross replied.

“Ain’t that a shame…it would certainly explain yer strange looks an’ accent. Kinda reminds me of them soldier fellas from Germaneia. How about ya stay the night Iron Cross, I’d feel mighty bad fer leavin’ somepony out in the cold.”

“You would do that for me Ms. Applejack? I...I can’t leave this act of generosity go unfulfilled. I feel obligated to work out my debt. From now on I shall help you run your farm.”

Applejack blushed slightly. “Well alright ah don’t see why not if yer willin’ to work. I reckon we can accommodate ya. By the way Iron Cross it’s alright if ya call me just Applejack or AJ. I ain’t real keen on using fancy titles.”

Iron Cross laughed nervously. “Thank you M-errm…Applejack. You were correct on the observation earlier. I am or at least I was a soldier from the land of Germaneia. Let’s just say that there was an accident involving magic and I ended up stranded here, wherever here is.”

“Hmm ah see. Well it’s alright Iron Cross the Apple Family will help ya get back on yer feet until ya can find yer way back home. Hay, ya might even like it here in Equestria, besides mah brother sure could use the help ‘round the farm.”

“I see so you have a brother. Does anyone else live on the farm besides you and your brother?”

“What the hay is an anyone? Ah think you must mean anypony. Anyway ah live on the farm with mah brother Big Macintosh, mah little sister Applebloom and of course Granny Smith. We’ve been running Sweet Apple Acres fer years.”

Applejack and Iron Cross finally made it to the small farmhouse in what had only seemed like minutes. It was actually a matter of two hours. The sun had already set and it was at least early night perhaps around 8 o’ clock. Applejack slowly and carefully opened the door to the farmhouse. “We usually turn in about this time of night because we gotta git up early the next mornin’. Iron ya can use the guest bedroom on the second floor but be real quiet-like. Ah promise I’ll introduce ya to everypony else in the mornin’. G’night.”

“Pleasant dreams Applejack” Iron Cross whispered. Iron Cross tucked himself into the guest bed and wondered how he had gotten himself in this situation. Just hours ago he was staring death in the face in the war torn city of Berlin, now he was cuddled inside a warm bed in a land called “Equestria” inhabited by strange colored sentient horses. Strangely enough he too was one of those horses. “Maybe this new life won’t be so bad. At least I have a warm bed and I’m not dead. This land also seems quite peaceful. It’s nice not have to worry about getting shot at or blown up.” With those thoughts Iron Cross drifted into a deep sleep, the dawn of a new day and a new life on the horizon.