Keeping The Links Together

August-1944 It was after an allied bombardment of my parent's pig farm, on the outskirts of Schweinburg, that I took up the cause. 5,000 pigs were lost, 20,000 sausages that would never be. I was lucky, I was already processed and packaged, and on the way to the market. It was just outside the walls of Schweinburg, that myself, and fellow brothers-in-arms, Knockwurst, Liverwurst, and Blutwurst, were able to escape the meat delivery wagon.

Making our way back to the farm was tough, dodging enemy patrols, allied bombardments, and the occassional hungry german shepherds. Blutwurst took a nipping, but made it out of the dog's mouth intact. Just cresting the hill before the farm, marauding P-51 Mustangs took several strafing runs at us, breaking the group of four apart. We were able to reconsolidate near dusk, when four sausages running on a hillside wasn't so obvious to allied pilots.

When we got to the farm, there was...nothing,....nothing left. The bombardment leveled the house, leveled the barns, and all the pigs were gone too. The only thing that remained was a huge bombed-out crater, and the ever-present eerie odor of barbecue. At this sight, and what a sad sight it was, that the four of us, four sausages, would keep the links together. (No pun intended)

After gathering our arms, we made off to stir trouble--you know, a little payback. Our first success was coming across an enemy camp, where Knockwurst and Liverwurst were able to tie the boots of 5 GI's together, I bet they went on a nice trip after that!

Finally, we made it to one of our camps. With decimated numbers, the lieutenant there was pleased to see us, so much so, that we were immediately sworn in as official soldats of his division, Grosswurstland. Now, true soldiers of the Wurstmarcht, we were all outfitted with better gear, and as sausages, one boot per soldier. We relaxed by the stereophone, sipping Lowenbrau and listening to the angelic voices of the Vienna Sausage Choir. That was shortlived, as regular human soldiers in our division took a culinary liking to us. Not to be anyone's dinner, we took the first assignment that came up, that would get us out of camp.

Under this division, we would see action everywhere, France, Holland, Belgium, our country, you name it, we were there. The Battle of Bastogne Bologne, The Battle of Sieg-Fried Pork, The Battle of Chipped Hamburg, The Battle of Porkloin, The Battle of Eggszinsteaks, are all just a few examples of the battles we fought in. The four of us took each battle in stride, keeping the links together. But war is unpredictable, and soon the four would be three.