Hi, your friendly neighborhood Judeo-Bolshevik conspirator here, delivering my promised review of "Furred Reich."

Abandon all hope ye who enter here, cuz we're about to drive the 1st Guards Tank Army straight into Crazytown. We'll be seizing a vital rail junction, where the Neo-Nazi Express Line meets the Fursuit Enthusiast Railroad. Warm up your tanks, fellow asiatic hordesmen, and drink heavily. First man gets the bottle, second gets the vodka.

Without further adieu, I present to you:

Hans “Furry Fetish”, Defender of the Third Reich

Chapter 1: Ein Volk, Ein Reich, Ein Fur

Hans coughed loud. Dust penetrated everything, especially his parched throat. He was exhausted, but as usual, his feelings were irrelevant in the vast emptiness and heavy gray horizon of the Russian steppes.

This is our introduction to our hero. While there’s nothing technically wrong with it, it just feels as blandly generic as our hero’s name. Hans suffers, and I guess we’re meant to feel sympathy for him.

Our hero is with the motorized troops of the Panzer-Grenadier-Division Großdeutschland as it marches through a nameless Russian town in the Belgorod oblast. What follows are some bland scenes of a burning Russian village, with nary a mention of the people actually living there. This bodes well for the rest of the book. They hear artillery in the distance and mount up again, heading towards some sort of factory.

Still the Russians were invisible. Hans watched as some thirty of the men leaped silently through the ruins. Five or six Panzer grenadiers ran along beside a building. One threw a grenade through a busted window, and the air shook from the explosion. A blood curdling scream followed in its wake, but it was unlike what they had often heard before. A human figure dressed in white fell from the window and rolled down to the feet of one of the men. It was a Russian civilian. She ran towards the soldiers, screaming. The men stood silent, aghast, as she ran through the ranks of petrified German soldiers. Three others came out: Two men and a child.

We’re still basically on the first page. Here we have a scene of German soldiers accidentally grenading a civilian. The German soldiers are depicted as shocked and remorseful. Our main character doesn’t react, merely passively observes. I suspect this will be the pattern; anything that might make our heroes look bad will be chalked up to the “casualties of war.” The German soldiers are humanized, concerned and conflicted. By contrast, the Russians are a presence, rather than individuals. In a few paragraphs:

The Russians replied with much heavier howitzer guns…The Russians, with multibarelled machine guns mounted upon trucks, poured a devastating fire onto everything they could see…

Hans is terrified, as well he should be. The depictions of warfare have at least some verisimilitude, which means our author put too much effort into a piece that his own Amazon page tacitly admits is a vehicle for furry erotica.

The Germans counterattack with their own artillery in this scene.

Their men [Russians] surged back rapidly, as if the whole thing were some sort of ballet. The metal roofs buckled in the heat. A horde of Russians, some with uniforms and some without, came running from the burning buildings. The Germans shot them all down like rabbits.

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Hans and friends go on merrily “cleaning up” the Russians. Hans shoots a badly wounded young man, and the narrator wonders if he’ll ever get pardoned for it.

After taking some prisoners, Hans and co grimly contemplate taking the dark, Satanic mill before them. Hans is afraid.

He wasn’t the only one scared. The fellow beside Hans stared at him from his blackened face and murmured: “If only those bastards would give up!”

My suspension of disbelief is starting to falter. This is supposedly a company, and even at full strength a company is small enough that it would be conceivable to know just about everyone by name. There are all sorts of instances of this. So far, only Hans, a lieutenant and a lance corporal have been named. Could it be that this just another case of borrowing war and tragedy as cheap drama to serve as a backdrop for furry boning?

The narrator and characters alike seem to hold the victims of these Panzer-grenadiers with equal disdain. I dunno what is worse; the author is unaware that the majority of Soviet soldiers taken prisoner by the Axis will be worked and starved to death, or he knows it and simply wants to spackle over that embarrassing fact.

Nevertheless, the attack continues. The men count off by threes for a grim frontal assault against an entrenched enemy.

Achtung! Nummer zwei, voraus!

Oh fuck, we’re doing this already.

Battle ensues as our plucky hero braves mortars and machine guns. Individual Russians are called Popovs, with Ivan being reserved for the great Russian Hive Mind. He gets buried in a collapsed bunker he and a friend “liberated” from some dead Russians. They hear the wondrous sound of whistling artillery. Woohoo, the Katyusha are here! Expecting death by glorious Soviet rocket barrage, he figuratively kisses his ass goodbye.

Then he finds himself lying alone on orange sand, with the warm sun bearing down on him. There’s some bird circling overhead. He thinks he’s either dead or dreaming. Like a proper German soldier, he gathers his kit and recons his srroundings.

Finding an oasis, he bathes himself in the warm water. We find out that our Aryan hero has dirty blond hair. This is all we know about him, and we’re at the end of the first chapter.

Oh well, at least we’re in furry land now. I’d hate to have to sit through more cringe inducing Wehrmacht heroics.

Chapter 2: Hans is a bit of a wuss

Kairah gave a long, dramatic sigh – probably because the lioness knew it would bug her friend, the deercat who gripped tighter onto the reigns in reaction.

WTF is a deercat?

The two women had been traveling southward, through the Sea of Sand, for a couple days now.

Super original guys.

This time they had a horse to save them from an endless walk, like last time they went on an adventure. Kairah was mounted upon the horse as her friend, and servant, Amalija, walked alongside the tall beast.

This is messy prose. I’ve sliced it up, omitting nothing. It took a second read through to figure out that the deercat is also Amalija. I’m probably taking this too seriously, but gripping reins tighter, absent of context, conjures up an image of someone riding a horse. I already dunno what a deercat is supposed to be. So on my initial reading, it seemed like there were three characters, not just two.

Also, bitch move making your so-called friend walk while you ride.

”Are we there yet?” the lioness teased, with a fat grin upon her features. The deercat turned her head to look up, and pouted in frustration at the 5’4” lioness straddled atop the horse.

Fuck, I hate her already. This is gonna be a death march. Tell my little Katyusha I love her, for I may not return, but I do this for our beloved motherland.

Ye gods, amateur hour at work here. I’m two paragraphs in, and already the quality is slipping. The first chapter wasn’t great, but it was decently put together. This is a hot mess. At least we know the tall beast is in fact a horse. This is furry land, I ain’t jumping to conclusions.

So the lion and the deercat (apparently a rare race in these parts) start a little horseplay before they stumble upon Hans, HERO OF THE THIRD REICH, passed out face down in the sand.

Kairah was the brave one, though, and so she neared the skinny-looking, uniformed human. Once close, she crouched and nudged the man. “Maybe it is dead…” Amalija muttered with sudden worry.

“Maybe he needs water!”

Amalija ran to the shore to gather some in an earthenware bucket.

“He looks cooked.” The lioness retorted, noticing his ruddy face, which was clearly not used to the environment. “It’s a shame you don’t like eating meat!”

Our hero spent the last chapter gunning down Russians, braving guns and artillery. He’s passed out literally in sight of the oasis. Sure, this was the fall after the Battle of Kursk, and the Germans have been having their faces punched in by the Soviets for a couple of months, but come on. He’s all action hero and then he ends up face down in the dirt after having washed and drank up?

So apparently deercats are more deer than cat, if their diet is to be believed. Still dunno what the hell it is. Must be a common furry trope, or perhaps I am giving the author too much credit.

They give him some water and wake him up. After coming to, this bizarre exchange begins.

”W… water? Oh that would be… great. Kitty!”

The lioness chuckled. “You heard the man,” she cooed over her shoulder to Lija, who gathered the water in the bucket with an easy scoop.

That’s not how I’d imagine reacting to waking up in a land of anthropomorphic lions.

Kairah’s hand reached down toward the eagle badge on his right breast, and thumb stroked along the wreath-circled swastika beneath it.

“Never seen this before…” she cooed.

Dat apolitical Wehrmacht, amirite?

Our furry friends don’t seem to find a human all that puzzling, so it seems that humans live in this secondary world too. So I guess focusing on heraldry makes sense, that is in fact what it is there for.

As you may have noticed by now, no one in this book ever just says anything. They coo, or they retort, or they tease, or they question. Said bookism is one of those things that they cover very early on in creative writing; it’s okay for a simple said, or paragraph cues, to tell the reader who is speaking. Our author slept through that class.

So they begin nursing him back. Our hero begins muttering in a daze.

The human opened his mouth to the bucket, readily drinking in the water but gurgling a “dank you” into it. He was conscious but seemed ‘not all there.’

It’s cuz he’s a Nazi, duh.

”Dank you,” he said again. “We’ll take the factory. We’re outnumbered as always but we’ll get it. Could really use some more artillery fire over here.”

Is he missing teeth, or is this some more gratuitous Deutsch?

Chapter 3: Gott mittens

Our boy Hans gets lifted on a horse by two cat-people. He warns them about low-flying aircraft, and starts wondering why there are cat people talking to him. But he’s not looking a gift cat in the mouth yet. Introductions are made.

”Hi Kairah and Ama… Amalija. I am Gefreiter Hans Hepner of the Grossdeutschland…”

I’m going to be calling him Private Hans because I’m certain I’ll be able to make some double-entendres.

This abuse of the ellipses his endemic through the story, and it’s fuckin annoying.

It seemed the lioness didn’t recognize any of his titles.

I didn’t need that spelled out for me, kamerad. Then again, he is writing for an audience chiefly consisting of Nazi fursuit enthusiasts, so maybe not taking any chances is a good idea.

They travel across sandy scrubland until they reach a little village, consisting of boxy white brick buildings. They lay him down to rest (not that way, you heathen) on a bed in one of these buildings. Kairah, who has a servant, still isn’t above nursing Private Hans personally. Our delusional private finally passes out, cut off from the supply of delicious methamphetamine that sustained his Russian murdering.

Or at least that’s what I’m reading into it.

Hans awoke to feel the lioness’ plantigrade hand in his hair once again, eyes opened slowly to see the sun had given way to bright desert moonlight which poured into their room. Sleep gave Hans a firmer sense of reality.

The fuck? Does Catlady walk on her hands or something? If it’s a normal people hand, just fucking call it a hand.

”…Wait… Where am I?” he recognized the two furred females, but wasn’t exactly sure what happened or how he got here. Kairah sat on one side of the bed, Amalija on the other, and both were staring right at him. Hans was naked from the waist up. They must have removed his tunic.

Thanks, I couldn’t figure that out from context >_>

”Surrounded by lovely girls?”

Amalija smiled at the compliment, and looked over her shoulder to him as she placed down whatever object was in her hand.

This shithead came to his senses in the land of talking animals, and he’s already angling for a threesome.

They give him the cliffnotes version of the last chapter.

”Are you feeling better now? Kai asked quietly. It seemed the two of them were trying to keep their voices down to avoid disturbing the neighboring rooms, even though some embarrassing noises were already coming from next door.

Here’s what I don’t get. The narrator can’t decide whether to be clinical and omniscient, or a conduit for Private Hans’ thoughts and feelings.

Hans let out a sight of relief. “Yes. So much better. You are both really considerate. I was sent to this division before I was old enough to fall in love, too. Haven’t been close to girls since then, either.”

Well I guess I gotta give him credit for not taking part in the mass rape of Eastern European women. But I’d venture a guess that author would probably regard that as lies and fabrications spread by the damned Judeo-Bolshevik historian Victor Victorovich Victorov.

”Oh, so you’re a soldier?”

“Yes.”

“Not been in love before?”

“No.”

“That’s OK, neither have we. Love is stupid, anyway.”

Amalija seemed to look down at what Kai just said.

And girls have cooties too.

”No it’s not.. I want to find it some day.”

Private Hans, hopeless romantic, killer of Russians.

Hans realized he was a burden to the two, and that he was taking up the only bed the two had to sleep in.

“Anyways. You must be pretty tired now. I should give you my spot…”

“Nah, it’s fine. We don’t mind sharing.” Kai chuckled, cooing at him.

FFS, one said substitute at a time. This is of course, quickly heading to juvenile fantasy land, where two women will totes sleep in the same bed with some foreign stranger if he’s sufficiently alpha. I guess the feldgrau really peels the panties.

He blushed at the idea of the two girls sleeping on either side of him, and it seemed at that moment Kairah was watching him closely. Just a few weeks ago Hans had his seventeenth birthday. He didn’t know too much about girls.

It’s okay, Private Hans. I don’t think the author knows much more either.

”OK thanks. I’ll try not to disturb you while I sleep. I’m really glad to have met you both.” Hans yawned and pulled the blanket back over him. The noises from next door were only getting louder.

Are you sure you’re not a robot, Hans?

Amalija turned and laid on her side, facing toward the window and away from Hans, her tail draped loosely over her leg. She seemed shy. But Kairah leaned forward in such a way that Hans could see her cleavage, hands pressed on the mattress next to his side, and smirked a bit.

You’re kidding right?

”So does this mean you’re a virgin?” Amalija lowered her ears in embarrassment as she heard Kairah tease Hans. Maybe ‘Lija was relieved she wasn’t the target of Kai’s teasing this time. Not for tonight at least. “Cause I mean, we can change that if you like.” Kai cooed smoothly, causing Lija to finally look around her shoulder in shock.

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