My Wretched Homeland

Prologue

The sun had finally begun setting, and the contained nervousness that was slowly filling up to the cap of each German soldiers' finally allowed for an explosion; what seemed to be an exasperated and grateful sigh as I watched the rest of my Fußtruppe allow their stagnant backs to finally crack beneath them and lean against the brick walls behind them. My eyes scanned the room, passing over the baby faces of the recently entranced Hitler Youth, and then to my own shaky hands. Within them was a blood stained 11.43x23mm Konsberg Colt gifted to me by whom I was told to be a fallen Oberfuhrer.

Some part of me took pride in that. The other part of me urged to let go of the lie I had kept pushing onto myself.

We were given the blessed two or three hours to ourselves; without worry that the American troops would infiltrate any land we had rightfully acquired. The story was; it had been nothing but worry. Ever since we were given the heads up that the beaches would be under the attempt of the Ally taking, we barely even got to take an extra breath. And, even, before that. Just— no breaks. It just, was something else to finally be able to hear your own breath.

But, just as some of our eyelids began closing; the hushed voice of the one person I didn't want to be hearing became something of.. inevitable evidence.

"Wir kämpfen für frauen und kinder von Deutschland, ihre mütter und väter, und ihre kinder— wir kämpfen für Deutschland, und Hitler, nie zurücktreten. Warum bist du hier? Kämpfen. Garantiert?"

We fight for the women and kids of Germany, your mothers and fathers, your children. We fight for Germany, and Hitler, never backing down. Why are you here? To fight. Guaranteed?

Part of me wanted to give him his ever so desirable guarantee, one he never departures without. But, in the midst of confusion as to why he was saying anything, and the part of me that couldn't muster up any words whatsoever, it didn't come out.

Ja, Oberleutnant. Garantiert.

It was so simple. But, for some reason, it just couldn't escape my lips. Despite the fact that those around me could do exactly that. My eyes didn't falter from in front of me, closing in on the wooden floorboards we stood atop, refusing to gaze at those who had noticed my faltering excuses, my inability to guarantee my best battle. But, it wasn't going to get by Oberleutnant Fischer.

Before I could even make an excuse for myself as his boots appeared in the view I had placed myself within, he grasped onto the inner, black shirt of my attire and pulled me forward, making sure that I looked him in his eyes. They were strong, and deep. The palest blue I had ever seen in my life; and I had killed a few greying wolves in my life time.

"Soldat Schulze," His voice practically pounded against my skull, his spit glowing against my face. I'd willingly admit my fear for him; but this man had my life in his hands. That, or my disobedience gaining me a private execution by Fischer himself. "why didn't I see your lips moving?" He questioned me, to which I didn't even know the answer myself.

I just couldn't bring myself to, sir.

No, can't use that.

My body seems to be failing me, sir.

He'd slap me for that.

I did move my lips, sir. You probably just didn't see it.

If he ever found out I was lying, I'd be dead meat.

It looks like my only option was to be as brutally honest as possible. As much as I knew it'd get me humiliated in front of the entire Infantry, it was better than probable execution.

"I just didn't know why you were saying it, sir. My apologies." My voice was much quieter than his own, muffled beneath the strength he continuously exerted towards me. Though, my voice was the least of what was expressing my current feelings. As soon as he came back to me, my eyes widened to their highest potential.

I was pushed back against the brick wall I used to rest comfortably on; only to have a hushed, violent whisper spat into my face. "Do you hear that?" He looked me in the eyes before pointing one of his fingers out through the window. My eyes followed his finger, though that wasn't enough for him; as he reached to my neck and forced my head to look the entire way. "That's the American luftwaffe." He whispered, moving my head forcibly back to face him. "Looks like they're landing now instead of tomorrow. You know what that means?" Again, I remained silent. Cursed. "Schulze!" He shouted, letting go of me as he did so.

Ja, oberleutnant. Gefecht.

It was that simple.

This time, I managed to force the words through my lips as I grasped onto the grey, cotton jacket that hovered above and protected my chest.

"Ja, oberleutnant. Gefecht."

Phew.

He gave me but a simple look before turning away and facing the rest of our Infantry, to whom he continued speaking to. It was a much more violent version of the silent treatment, if you asked me. Again, it was something that I disliked; but there wasn't much I could do about that.

"Ich schwöre bei Gott diesen heiligen Eid, daß ich dem Führer des Deutschen Reiches und Volkes Adolf Hitler, dem Oberbefehlshaber der Wehrmacht, unbedingten Gehorsam leisten und als tapferer Soldat bereit sein will, jederzeit für diesen Eid mein Leben einzusetzen."

I swear by God this holy oath that I will unconditionally obey the leader of the German Reich and people, Adolf Hitler, the commander in chief of the Wehrmacht, and as a brave soldier will be prepared to use my life for this oath at any time.

The entire room, now including myself, was then full of the hushed voices of German children and young adults, repeating the oath that we had all signed onto years ago. Again, some kind of image I had placed in my head gave me a reason to be proud of learning and swearing by that oath. Maybe it's because I imagined Hitler there.

Even though he wasn't.

"To your feet, men!" For a moment, his voice seemed louder than what was humanly safe for their situation—inching myself onto the very line between shushing him and not doing so. Luckily, the only thing I did was stand on my two feet, feet I was lucky enough to still have.

"Ready your weapons, we'll head out on the first shot. Schulze, take my silenced karabin and stay back. We'll need silent cover fire." Fischer either preferred me enough to give me his own weapon, or hated me enough to keep me back here. Whether or not, I wasn't complaining.

Here we go.