The gardens of the Achilleon

Tragoedea pt2

5th January 1918

The Central Power's spring offensive was still going. Montgomery hadn't had a good night's sleep in days.

His letters and courtesy dwindled, and with it dwindled their recourses. At least he had Sergeant Thomas Freeze and Captain John Ogilvie with him. Not like they were the most pleasant of people...

He had to deal with the cards he was given... They were currently his only friends. As he flew through the sky he knew that his life depended on these men... Uneducated, proletarians without the proper resources. Montgomery had started to spend personal funds in an attempt to at least make sure their basic needs were met.

He looked at the battlefield below him as he dodged anti-aircraft artillery. He pulled up, firing shots at the plane tailing him and hitting the pilot dead on. He saw the plane crash and Montgomery flew past to confirm his kill before pulling back up into the battle.

First, there was one, then two, then three... Montgomery was starting to think he'd better his personal record of shooting down 3 planes in one mission...

There was this feeling whirling in his stomach, a mixture of adrenaline and gut-wrenching guilt... These were men with mothers, fathers, and children he was ruining... he couldn't ponder about that for too long, Montgomery maneuvered through the sky in an attempt to get the planes firing at him off his tail.

He was so focused on the planes harassing him, that he momentarily forgot about anti-aircraft artillery. A shell ripped through the wing of his plane... Tearing the entire thing off.

"Όχι! Όχι! Σκατά! Όχι τώρα, όχι έτσι!" He yelled as he desperately tried to get his plane under control... The war machine started to spiral in a matter of seconds he felt the ground come closer and then a deafening smack. Time seemed to still for a second as he felt everything... An incredible pain as he cried out, fear, adrenaline... Pure sorrow escaped his throat.

An unimaginable pain was felt in his left leg as it got crushed in the crumbling pain... He looked as shrapnel fell from the sky, and the dust settled, clearing up the cloudy sky...

A tear rolled down his cheek as he felt the blood slowly leave his body and then... Nothing.

His world went completely black... There was a ringing in his ear and then Montgomery found himself in a white peaceful eternity... He looked around, and a few feet ahead of him sat two men, one was crying and the other had a hand on his shoulder...

Montgomery's breath hitched in his throat as he saw them... The man stood up and turned around to look at Montgomery... The one crying also looked up...

"You-". He said with a distinct German accent... Friedrich Sternberg and Otto Baumgartner.

Montgomery walked over to Otto Baumgartner and he kneeled in front of him and hugged the crying man... He wasn't much of a man, more so a scared boy. The pubescent freckles on his face portray the young German man's innocence. "Please forgive me-... I beg of you, please- please forgive me-". He said to Otto Baumgartner. The same man he'd killed and the same man that had haunted him for so long... Montgomery had never forgotten the sight of watching Baumgartner fall from the plane and how he saw the fear reflected on his face as he screamed for his mother. The same man was the reason behind why he started thinking of Manfred in the first place.

Baumgartner was startled... He was just shocked before he nodded slowly, he brushed some of his firey orange hair out of his face and sniffled softly "Okay... Ja, you are forgiven-". He responded in a soft voice and Montgomery felt such an immense sense of closure wash over him. He stood to his feet and looked at Friedrich Sternberg... Both stood there looking at one another in pure silence.