Quotessence
Home / Topics / Military Fiction Quotes

Military Fiction Quotes

Browse 27 quotes about Military Fiction.

Military Fiction Quotes

“Red Army soldier Danylo could only sleep while moving – in transport – and even that could hardly be called sleep at all.”

“Bang!” The explosion thundered right beside him. Danilo’s body was thrown aside like a rag doll, and his mind shut down instantly. What happened next, Red Army soldier Shablia neither saw nor heard. The sounds of battle, the shouts of men, machine-gun fire, shell bursts — even the massive shockwave when the bridge and dam were blown up — could no longer reach his consciousness. Author: Volodymyr Shablia: Context note: This passage describes the moments of Danylo Shablia's last battle during the chaotic retreat of the Red Army, emphasizing the sudden, impersonal nature of events in World War II.”

“Life’s a no-rules cage fight.” That’s what Alex used to say—back when he still had fire in his eyes, when it sounded like a creed. Now Lena repeated the words to herself and they echoed hollow.”

“Husband . . . Father . . .” her mom mocked. “You think it’s the same man. But war slices people open. You married one man. The one crawling back from war? That’s a zombie. Same face, but inside—just rot.”

“This was what they’d been told all along in the army: “It’s us or them. War’s coming. No way around it.” And now the day had come, and in Alex’s eyes it felt not just inevitable but right.”

“Aaron anticipated the application of some kind of healing balm, but to his surprise the healer started singing a soft melodic tune. The breath from the notes fell on Aaron’s injured arm and he felt the hairs on his forearm react to the soft breath. It was only moments before the song drifted away on the wind and Wonataban’s instruction followed the last note: “Open your eyes.”

“Spike, rake, sponge, charge, wad, shot, wad – the gun crews worked like automatons. There was something extraordinary in the way that every man performed his motions as a part of the action. Every movement was synchronised with the next. They were a perfect machine – each one a piece of the mechanism, like the wheels of the watch in his pocket. He could think of no other example of men working together with such precision. This was man, industry and science in unison. Was this the way of the future? It was a wondrous and near-perfect thing. But it was a perfection bent on destruction.”

“Well, the truth is I’m in a bit of trouble. After that business on the bridge, I was going to be court martialled. I thought it was so bloody unfair… Well the thing is, I’ve escaped in order to clear my name.’ Oleg roared with laughter and crushed Edward’s ribs with a bear hug. ‘You! Bloody outlaw! Robin bloody Hood! How much price on your head? Maybe I claim bounty, eh?’ Shit, Oleg wasn’t taking this at all seriously. He should never have asked… ‘Of course, I help! Leave to me. One condition, you grow big beard, like oligarch… I have idea. Keep head very down. Will find you in two days. Then we hide you very deep.”

“Maskirovka, a pulse-pounding thriller by debut author Willi Pochinov plunges disgraced officer Edward van der Velde into a web of Russian deception, coups, and disinformation from Suffolk to the Black Sea, where truth is the ultimate casualty. In an era where truth is a battlefield and deception reigns, Willi Pochinov’s debut novel, Maskirovka, emerges as a gripping political thriller that captures the zeitgeist of our disinformation age. But Maskirovka is more than a thriller — it’s a meditation on trust in an age where reality itself is weaponized. As Edward grapples with his dual identities and the machinations of those around him, readers are left questioning: when nothing is as it seems, who can you believe? For fans of espionage and political drama, this fiercely contemporary novel is a must-read, proving that even in his ninth decade, Pochinov is a formidable new voice in the genre.”

“Hold your fire!’ screamed Edward, ‘it’s not a gun! She’s got a bloody camera! It’s not a gun! Stand down! Stand down!’ She swivelled at his shout and pointed the camera at him. They locked eyes. There was one more flash. She winked suggestively then sat down… The Harleys revved and were across the bridge in seconds. Edward bent double, head down, hands on knees, gasping for breath. She’d actually fucking winked! He picked up her abandoned helmet. He could smell her perfume.”

“Well, Captain van der Velde, you’re so deep in the ordure, you’re standing on tip toe and it’s still up to your ear lobes. I reckon you’re the ideal man to find some answers.’ ‘But I’m under mess arrest, Sir!’ ‘That’s not my bloody problem is it, Captain? Now you listen to me! We don’t know how far up this thing goes. I want you to find out what the hell is going on and report back to me personally. So, get your arse of that bed and get yourself out of here any way you like. But you can’t blame me, I can’t be connected to you!’ The Brigadier shook Edward’s hand. ‘Good luck!’ The door clicked shut.”

“Edward, along with The King and Sir Oleg’s other guests, was glued to the rolling news reports of little green men in London. There were endless drone shots of Buckingham Palace surrounded by foreign tanks. Edward soon realised that the “news” items were constantly re-fuelled by speculation and counter speculation, rumour and counter rumour, real news and fake news. There was even a short piece to camera about the probable abdication of The King.”

“The most effective move would be to send the tanks with infantry west of Bolshaya Belozerka” Commander Smirnov proposed. “Enemy units there are nearly destroyed — we could threaten a real encirclement.” “That won’t be possible,” the chief of staff objected. “A combat order has just arrived from фронт headquarters: the 15th Tank Brigade, the 530th Anti-Tank Artillery Regiment, and the 30th Cavalry Division are are redeployed to support the 12th Army near Pavlograd, where the situation is critical.” Smirnov turned pale, then his eyes filled with blood. “Damn it!” he slammed his fist on the table. “We needed just two more days. Without tanks now, we’re helpless. — Volodymyr Shablia, Stone. Book Two Context note: In 1941, rigid bureaucracy and centralized command in the Red Army often prevented commanders from exploiting battlefield opportunities. Delays, reassignments, and fear of independent decisions frequently led to disastrous outcomes.”

“I fear that even my authority as an army commander won’t help. The fear of the High Command is too great.”

“You don’t get it, babe,” he said, still looking at the sky. “World War III already started.” She propped herself up on one elbow, confused. Around them families picnicked, kids ran on the playground—what war? But Alex wasn’t kidding.”