Hans stepped foot off of the plane's ramp and immediately felt as if he was being barraged from the sun on all sides of his body. The humidity of Singapore was something the boy, who had throughout his entire life grew up in the Alps, could not easily handle.
In fact, the first instinct Hans had was to roll up his sleeves and unbutton his collar, which appeared to be the common fashion of those men deployed in the tropics. While Kufstein had its own airbase, it was actually a rather small facility.
Truly, when compared to the vast naval/air base that existed in Singapore, which housed tens of thousands of German soldiers, Hans felt as if the facility which he had first learned to fly was utterly inadequate.
However, the boy did not have much time to take in his surroundings, as the highest ranking officer who sat on the same plane as Hans was quick to give out his orders to the men who disembarked. You see, not everyone on this plane was in Hans' unit. In fact, he seemed to be one of the few pilots who was leaving Kufstein.
Most of these men were veterans who were coming off of their leave of absence. Now returning to the tropical paradise, which housed the German Empire's largest coalition within the eastern half of the world.
The officer gave Hans the directions to where he would be stationed, which was onboard the SMS Osterreich, where it sat proudly in the bay as the largest warship Hans had ever seen. The carrier was massive, enough to support thousands of crew, and the forty-two planes which sat on its deck. It was practically a floating city, as far as the boy was concerned.
Though many people stared at what they considered being a child in a Luftwaffe uniform, none dared to get in his way. After all, Hans was a well-known celebrity throughout the Reich. Known as the First Prince of Germany, and an exceptional genius, his name was frequently in the tabloids over the past few years. Specifically, in regards to his relationships with his multiple beautiful fiancees.
Thus, Hans had no difficulty entering the massive ship, where he was pointed in the general direction of the pilot's quarters. Once entering the room, Hans noticed that the pilot's quarters were a rather spacious area, with several bunks where men dressed in nothing but their trousers lied in their cots, while reading books, or letters from home.
Others appeared to be playing a game of cards, betting their own currency and contraband as they did so. However, all eyes darted towards the teenage boy who had just entered the room, causing Hans to remain silent as he approached the bunk, which had his name written over it.
The pilots gazed in awe at the boy, who placed his bag in the allotted cupboard before jumping into his bed. After the lengthy flight that Hans had endured, he was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to sleep for the next few hours. Unfortunately, he would not be afforded such a luxury as a particularly tall and lean man approached him.
"I didn't believe it when I saw them writing your name on that bunk. After all, there aren't many men with the name von Kufstein in this world. However, it appears the rumors are true. The little prince has graduated from the academy and is now a part of our unit!"
Hans sat up from his covers, knowing that he would not get any sleep, and silently nodded his head, where the man quickly introduced himself.
"Sorry, where are my manners? Lieutenant Johannes Wagner, but you can call me Haywire."
The man then reached out his arm in an attempt to shake the boy's hand. Hans lightly smiled before returning the gesture as he introduced himself to the unit, despite everyone already knowing who he was.
"Lieutenant Hans von Kufstein, it is a pleasure to meet you, Haywire."
Lieutenant Wagner nodded his head in approval before introducing the rest of the unit
"That surly looking fuck over there is Lieutenant Walter Vogel, but we just call him Apex. Over there shuffling the deck of cards is Captain Werner Kraus, his callsign is Caveman. And back there, jerking off to a picture of your mother, is our good friend Rudolf Kruger, however he is more commonly referred to by our unit as Ghost. There are several others in our bunk who are out and about. I'll introduce you to them later, so what's your callsign, anyway?"
Hans swiftly looked over to Ghost to see if he was actually jerking off to a picture of Linde, and while the man wasn't actually engaging in such a scandalous act, he was indeed admiring the beauty of the Kaiserin whose picture was posted on the front page of some fashion magazine. Hans's attention was immediately shifted when he heard Haywire's question, which he was quick to answer.
"They call me Prince..."
The crew broke out into a fit of laughter and Hans could distinctively hear one of his new comrade's mock him for such an obvious callsign.
"That's not very creative, is it? I guess your class wasn't the most imaginative bunch, were they?"
Callsigns were nicknames given to pilots during flight school, any number of things could inspire them, from certain behavior, to surnames that people had. However, Hans was given his callsign simply because of his unique position in life as the eldest prince of the Imperial Family. In all honesty, he too felt it was a bit lacking compared to some of the others he had met.
However, there was no use complaining, at the very least it wasn't something distasteful, and thus he laughed together with his new unit, as Haywire volunteered to show him around the ship. Hans and Johannes continued through the interior of the SMS Osterreich as the man asked him more questions about how such a young boy had become a pilot in the Luftwaffe.
"So, Hans, tell me how did you end up in this position at such a young age? I always heard you were a genius, but as far as I'm aware, the minimum age for military service is seventeen, and that's with your parents' permission."
Hans sighed heavily as he repeated the same story he told to practically everyone at the Aerial Warfare Academy when he was first admitted nearly four years ago.
"I graduated from high school when I was ten years old. Where I convinced my father to allow me to attend the Aerial Warfare Academy. I then went through four years at the school, while also undergoing flight school at the same time.
Again, it was due to my father, who decided to get my flight training done with before I actually entered active service. Naturally, as the Kaiser, he pulled some strings in order to get me admitted at such a young age. If I'm being honest, I think he desires that I see combat, knowing that this upcoming war with Japan might be my last chance to actually serve with distinction.
After all, once we have broken the Japanese Empire, there will be no real threats to the Reich, and any wars we wage in the future will be against savages armed with bows and spears. It's not really all that interesting of a story. Sorry to get your hopes up."
Haywire nodded his head in agreement with Hans's perspective. He thought that there might be something more interesting to why such a young boy was already a pilot in the military, but it ultimately came down to the least entertaining reality, nepotism.
Ultimately, the Reich was a meritocracy, but there were some instances where those in power, like Berengar, used their connections to give their particularly gifted kids a head start over others their age. However, it was still an uncommon occurrence. This led Johannes to change the subject and ask Hans another question that was burning in his mind.
"Alright, I get it, so what planes are you certified to fly? I need to know if you're going to be my wingman or not..."
Hans did not hesitate to answer this question with a confident smirk on his youthful face.
"Aside from the standard trainer, I certified to fly both the Ta 152 fighter-intercepter, and the Ju 87 Stuka dive-bomber. Though if I'm being honest, I would much rather be in the fighter-intercepter. However, I will fly whatever I am needed to."
Johannes stared at Hans in disbelief when he heard the boy was certified to fly two different war planes. Nobody else on this ship had accomplished such a feat, thus he was quick to pat Hans on the back and compliment him.
"You really are a genius, aren't you? Though I should remind you, the Stukas on board this carrier aren't your standard variation. The Kriegsmarine have redesigned them with foldable wings, and to carry torpedos rather than bombs. Though I'm sure whatever you're ordered to fly, you will manage just fine. Alright, we should be getting back to our bunks. The Wing Commander will be gathering us soon enough for flight exercises. Sorry kid, no sleep for you!"
Hans could only curse underneath his breath at the thought of doing flight exercises while suffering from horrific jet lag. However, he was in the military now, and naturally had no say over his own sleep schedule. Thus, he hauled ass back to the bunk with Haywire in tow, where they would wait for the Wing Commander to arrive.
