Home By Christmas

Chapter Four - Kurt

"You look so grown up in your uniform," Mrs Schäfer said, gripping Kurt tightly by the upper arm. "I remember when you used to run around in nothing but your underthings."

Kurt placed his hands over hers and gently pulled them off as she made an attempt to straighten his shirt. "Mother, please."

"You make a fine soldier, my body. That uniform suits you." Mr Schäfer pressed the palms of his hands into the table and nodded at his son.

Kurt looked away, heat rising in his cheeks, and set to work putting his uniform to rights. He smoothed out the wrinkles on his sleeves from where he had been grabbed and readjusted his cap so it sat more comfortably on his head. The last thing Kurt wanted was to meet Wilhelm in the village with his uniform all crumpled thanks to his mother's constant fussing. Wilhelm would never let him forget it and Kurt knew it would follow him throughout training. He wanted to be seen as a man, not a boy whose mother still helped him to dress.

When Kurt left the town hall, complete with uniform, he noticed how different the village looked at him. People who he had never spoken to offered him a nod when he passed and even the girls — who usually ignored him — appeared a little more interested. Kurt found that he carried himself differently, too. He walked with his chest puffed out, a slight bounce in his step, and his head held high so everyone would take notice.

The uniform gave him a purpose, a reason to want to be noticed and for people to notice him. It changed him more than he could ever imagine, and from the moment Kurt emerged from the town hall, he knew he had made the right decision.

In the cramped family kitchen, Kurt caught sight of Hans lingering by the door. Hans straightened up a little and tried to puff his chest out to mimic his older brother's more powerful stance. Kurt couldn't help but smile at the sight of his brother trying to copy him, a sure sign that he had become someone that others looked up to. Pride erupted in his chest and Kurt readjusted his cap once again, Hans pretending to do the same thing.

For a brief second, Kurt locked eyes with his mother, a trace of worry dancing over her face at the actions of her youngest son. A small well of guilt bubbled up in Kurt's stomach. Although he wanted to be respected, Kurt wasn't sure he wanted his brother to go to war too. He hoped that this war would mean he wouldn't have to.

"I should go," he said, pushing the feeling down. "I promised Wilhelm I would meet him in the village for some celebratory drinks."

"Alright, but don't be out too late. There are still chores round here that will need doing come morning," Mr Schäfer said.

"I can do them! I'm strong too!" Hans attempted to make a muscle.

"Yes you are, son, but it's still Kurt's responsibility."

Hans pouted.

"I shall be back this evening, mother."

"I expect you will be."

Mrs Schäfer stood on her tiptoes and planted a kiss on Kurt's cheek. Kurt hastened to remove the lipstick mark as he left the farmhouse and stepped out into the humid country air. He glanced around the vast fields, taking in the sights for one of the last times before he was to leave for training. Despite his grievances about farm life, he would still miss his home, even if it would only be for a few weeks.

Kurt made his way across the rolling fields, occasionally readjusting his cap as he went. A nervous energy filled him as he walked. This would be the first time all the men who had signed up would be gathered in one place and Kurt couldn't help but wonder how he compared to the rest of the men. Would they see him as a soldier or a boy?

People crowded every gap of the village square as Kurt stepped through a metal gate. Women hung off the men in their uniforms, older men celebrated the youth willing to put their lives on the line, and children looked up at the men with adoration in their eyes. The boys soaked in the attention, embracing it for all it was worth, as they knew they would be gone in just a few short days. It was a day to celebrate, a day to be celebrated.