France, 1944. As the Allies land on the shores of Normandy, an unlikely friendship strikes up between Levi Ackerman, a widowed French Jew, and Eren Jäger, a deeply-in-the-closet lieutenant in the German Wehrmacht. The two deal with love, loss, digni...
It was past sunset when Eren finally left the communications room, having spent the day trying to decipher what the Americans were saying over the radio. It was garbled, their accent was strange, most of it was in code, so he made very little progress. Listening and writing down what pieces he understood helped to take his mind off what had happened earlier.
When he stepped out, the sky was purple, yet there was still a bit of light to see by. He lit a cigarette, took a long drag to relax, and began to walk.
The dungeons? No. He had something else to check first.
He headed north to the edge of town and trekked out into the field, now dark and lacking the floral beauty that camouflaged the horror of that morning. He did not have a good idea of where precisely to go, but it was made easier by a man leaned over in the tall grass.
He called out, "Identifizieren Sie sich und Ihren Auftrag." Identify yourself and state your purpose.
There was a gasp, obviously someone nervous at being caught. When the man stood up, he wore a German uniform.
"Eren?" came a soft question.
He squinted through the growing darkness. "Armin? Is that you? What are you doing out here?"
He pointed to the ground. Eren was now close enough to see that Armin was in front of the corpse. "They just left him. I ... I wasn't sure if I could bury him, or if I should burn him."
Eren knelt by the body and rolled him over. He was already stiff and cold, and Moses' face was caught in a moment of shock, having just done something so horrible to a friend, only to see a gun in his face as soon as it was over, a split second of realizing his action had been futile, his pride and his very life reduced to nothing more than a few minutes of Nazi entertainment.
Eren reached forward, closed the eyelids, and pushed the opened mouth shut. Armin folded the stiffened arms over Moses' chest to look normal, at peace, rather than the horror of his last moments.
Eren asked softly, "Do you have a shovel?"
Armin pointed to his Klappspaten, a small folding shovel issued to soldiers.
"It could take us all night with that," Eren warned. "Are you willing to dig?"
"I would bury you," Armin said quietly.
Eren thought about that. Those words showed that Armin really had come to think of these Jews as equals, despite what the captain said and did. He took the small spade and unfolded it. "I'll get started. Run back and fetch mine."
Armin took off across the field while Eren slammed the Klappspaten into the dirt. He could not save this man, but he could give him some dignity in death.
After digging a bit, Armin returned with another shovel and got to work. Eren took a small break to wipe his brow from the summer night heat. He glanced again at the body. He had not gotten to know this Jew very well, but still, they had talked through Levi's interpretations.
He saw a glint of silver, paused, knelt down, and reached out to Moses' neck. He carefully pulled forth a necklace with an oval, filigree locket.
Eren unclasped the locket and opened it. Inside were two photographs: Moses dressed up in a suit and bow tie, and on the other side was a young, lovely woman in a modest dress, her dark hair pulled back, dainty earrings, and a small brooch decorating her throat.
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