Historical fiction

Historical fiction

Απόστολος Παπαγιαννόπουλος - Το Πέρασμα του Λαιμού

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«Το «πέρασμα» του Λαιμού»
(Ιστορικό μυθιστόρημα)
    Ανάμεσα στη Μεγάλη και Μικρή Πρέσπα , αμέσως μετά το χωριό Λαιμός , υπάρχει ένα στενό «πέρασμα» που οδηγεί στα ελληνο-αλβανικά σύνορα . Ο πανέμορφος αυτός τόπος είναι γεμάτος με πολλές και συνταρακτικές ιστορικές μνήμες αφού στο παρελθόν , και ιδιαίτερα στο Βυζάντιο , είχε ιδιαίτερη στρατηγική σημασία . Αλλά και στον πρόσφατο Εμφύλιο συνέβησαν εκεί γεγονότα που καταγράφηκαν ανεξίτηλα στην ιστορική μνήμη καθώς συνδέονται με το αιματηρό τέλος του αδελφοκτόνου σπαραγμού .

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Απόστολος Παπαγιαννόπουλος - Αγιον Όρος Επιχείρηση Αντώνιος Μπουλάτοβιτς

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ΑΓΙΟΝ ΟΡΟΣ : Επιχείρηση «Αντώνιος Μπουλάτοβιτς»
 
Περίληψη :
Λίγα χρόνια μετά την διάλυση της Σοβιετικής ΄Ενωσης  και την κατάρρευση των καθεστώτων του Ανατολικού «μπλοκ» , μια εθνικιστική παραστρατιωτική οργάνωση της Ρωσίας που επιδιώκει την αναστήλωση της τσαρικής « Αγίας Ρωσίας» οργανώνει μυστικά μια περίεργη «επιχείρηση» στο ΄Αγιον ΄Ορος .

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Sven Hassel -The Commisar

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"Jesus, Jesus why is everybody always sneezin' and freezin' in this God-awful country, sniffles Porta. -Anybody know a cure for it? I feel as if hair's growin' out of the sides of my head, an' the germs've built a barbed-wire entanglement in my throat!
-A Russian grenade up your backside, or perhaps a Kalashnikov burst straight into your napper'd clear that cold away in a second, says Gregor, with a less than humorous laugh.

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Sven Hassel - The Bloody Road To Death

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"A rising and falling rumble sounds continuously, broken now and then by the chatter of machine guns. The earth beneath us seems to shiver like a dying animal…

As soon as we get the order to fall out, we drag ourselves into the huts and drop down half-dead. The company was supposed to have held Deadman's Heights for another three days, but the company has gone out of existence. The greater part of us lie in mass graves. The lucky ones are in the field hospital. Deadman's Heights are just what the name implies. A hell on earth for the living…"

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Sven Hassel - Comrades of War

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  "The brothel had been tidied up. There was no more dust on the rafters. Fresh girls had arrived. The big fish suspended over Madame´s table had disappeared. In its stead a bull´s head had been hung on the wall. Someone had hung a sheer stocking and a pair of light blue panties on one of the horns. They were left hanging there like a sort of trade mark.

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Sven Hassel - Reign of Hell

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"We were gathered outside the Krasinski Theatre, lost in contemplation of a photograph of two naked girls, when Tiny came lumbering excitedly up the road towards us.
-Hey! Look what I've got! he shouted.
We dragged our eyes reluctantly away from the photograph. Tiny was carrying a couple of squalling, spitting cats by the scuff of their necks.
-Food! said Porta, his face lighting up.
-Food be buggered, retorted Tiny. -These cats ain't food. These is racing cats.

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Sven Hassel - O.G.P.U. Prison

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"The Russian straddles an armchair and uses his machine-pistol like a scythe. He sweeps it round the big room. Plaster and the dirt of years explode from the walls.

The Pioneer Feldwebel remains standing for a fraction of a second, made visible by the muzzle flash of the Mpi. Then his body rockets backwards across a long table, on which freshly killed hens are lying. The rain of bullets pours into him, making his body twitch violently. He falls to the floor, taking the hens with him.

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Sven Hassel - Monte Casino

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"God! how it rained! It poured and poured. Everything was sopping. Our mucky rain-capes were long since wet through.
We were sitting under some trees in a sort of tent made by buttoning capes together. They were SS capes and better than ours and were relatively dry. Tiny had also put up his umbrella.

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Sven Hassel - Marchbattalion

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  "-It was the Spanish Civil War, said Barcelona Blom, spitting casually through the open side panel of the Russian tank in which we were travelling. - I started off fighting for one side and ended up fighting for the other. To begin with I was a miliciano in the Servicios Especiales. Then the Nationalists got hold of me, and I 'd managed to convince them I was only an innocent German who'd been pressganged into service by General Miaja, they shoved me into the 2nd Battalion, 3rd Company. And made me fight for them, instead.

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Sven Hassel - Liquidate Paris

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"I had a grenade in my hand. So, no doubt, did the English private. I tore out the pin with my teeth. Lay there and counted. Twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four…The grenade whistled through the air towards the English soldier. On its way, it passed his grenade whistling through the air towards me. He had thrown at exactly the same moment. But no damage done. We obviously share the same reactions and had both rolled out of range in time to save our skins. I leaped for the machine-gun and feverishly fired several rounds. A second grenade exploded.

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