The Cab driver pulls up to the driveway of the urban 2 story house and it's a beautifully designed story house with a backyard.
Along with a good size of land behind it that leads out to more open fields and forest. Plenty of room for a growing family.
Stepping out of the cab Karl has Albert supported in his arms and followed by Klaudia, who closes the cab door after saying thank you to the man.
The three walk up the driveway back to home and Karl shifting little Albert to his left arm, Karl then reaches out and opens up the doorway.
Apon entering Karl's senses are attacked by the smell of salted pork along with good cooking spices that's being used.
A smile and his mouth salivating slightly Karl gently hands Albert back over to his mother who tries containing a giggle seeing the reaction of her husband.
Stepping into the kitchen door way frame, Karl chuckles a little and says "Hallo Mütter" turning around and seeing her son. Karls mother, a healthy age of 50 makes her way over quickly and embraces her Son in a death grip of a bear hug. Over joyed that he's ok and her 'kleine Hefeteigsemmel' returned home in one piece.
Karl chuckles returning the hug and after a minute the middle aged lady begins to fuss over the 6'2'' tall man standing before her. Checking him to see if he's ok and to make sure he's not hiding bandages or any stitches from her.
Then remembering he was a Major and understanding the golden insignia of a General rank and aiguillette. She goes into a celebration of sorts congratulating her son before she goes back to fussing over him a little bit more.
Happy to be home and holding his laughter in, Karl says his thanks to his mother as he knows too well that he won't be able to get away until she's pleased that he is alright and not hurt.
"So proud of you dear! What's the new rank?" She asks joyfully examining the golden aiguillettes.
Then she frowns remembering the letter of him being wounded back in El Alamein, as her eyes have set their ferocious sights on his wound badge that's clasped to his lower left breast pocket.
With a scoff she shakes her head then she smiles again, her soft brown eyes filled with happiness and relief.
Then after another hug she sends him on his way saying "Go see your father Karl, he's listening to the radio in the living room." She says patting his arm and Karl nods a little as he heads off and smiles hearing Alberts contagious giggling. As Grandma had given him a cookie because dinner won't be for another two hours or so.
Standing in the entrance to the living room he sees his father in a peaceful slumber so, Karl steps back into the hall and heads down to his office room. Storing the classified folder safely away in a cabinet file.
Once he takes a quick look around and seeing everything was left where he last put them a while back. Karl heads into the living room.
His Father at age 54 is lying asleep on the couch, who could blame the old timer? He's one of the managers for the Focke Wolfe industries that builds engines for the Luftwaffe.
The old man was a Captain in the Kaisers army of Ww1, his final battle was fought near the end of Passchendaele where he nearly lost his leg.
He served in the strumtruppen, or one of Germanys first modern elite shock troops that where the first ever to harness the flame throwers.
His father was a forced to use a Flammenwerfer in a part of his service so he sent a lot of Americans soldiers to hell in the first world war with what he had done.
In the end though his Father, Herr Kurt went to several therapist to get help but it wasn't enough the man has suffered from a bit of trauma that's near PTSD.
At the end of his leave from the hospital the war was lost so when Kurt was able to work again he used his engineering degree, pioneering skill and his university credits he had stored up.
He had gotten a job as one of the Focke Wulf engineering directors and later became the leading manager for the large chains of factories. He's done a good job leading and tending to the factory as well.
"Vater, bist du wach?" Karl asks sitting down and relaxing into one of the comfortable arm chairs.
When hearing a voice from his groggy state, Herr Kurt slowly sits up with a yawn creeping onto his tired features. But it turns into a smile seeing who's sitting across from him.
"Abend sohne, welcome home" Kurt says with a proud smile shining, as after examining him quickly his eyes flickered over the Colonel insignia on the collar and then. His broad shoulders.
Then looking up to meet Karl in his eyes, his expression turns serious seeing the pain and misery deep in Karl's eyes. Much like himself he knows that pain and Karl has locked it away deep within him not wanting to show it nor have anyone see it.
"Son, if there's something you want to talk about that you saw, you can talk to me you hear? I understand what's going through that mind of yours Karl. You left us 8 months ago as a bright young Major and now. You look like you seen the Grim Reaper standing before you, it's in your eyes Son." Kurt says leaning forward a little resting his hand on his sons shoulder.
"It's probably not as bad as your experience Father but, I really need to talk to someone who understands what I've seen..." Karl says slowly. Once he finishes that Kurt leans back his full focus on his son.
Karl slowly begins retelling his experiences of what happened to him this past month, and what he had seen. From the battle of Kasserine to the vicious and gory battle of Tunisia.
Then he gets into the story of their fight to hold the town where he watched recruits turn into vicious rabid animals. Fighting to the death to try and survive as hand to hand fighting enraged.
Soon his story ends with the bombings near the Port of Cape Bon and the mercy shot he conducted on the 18 year old sailor who's intestines where spilling all over the deck.
This took a good hour for Karl to share and come clean with his horrific experiences and war stories. Even though this is bringing back bad memories, sadness and stress.
Karl is also relieved of being able to talk with someone who understands what it's like.
In the halls Klaudia who was ease dropping along with her mother in-law silently listen in on the conversation from the hallway. Hearing the horrifying details that Karls describing with what he saw and lived through, as it's a shock to the two ladies as well.
Klaudia nearly gasped at one point hearing how a trusted friend of his and hers died within Karls arms with his entire lower body missing.
"Since we're sharing stories, I might as well share the one that haunts me at night, and what makes my near PTSD tick, as the doc says." Kurt says with a uncomfortable sigh but he continues on anyways.
Looking up in surprise at his Fathers willingness to open up about his war experience, Karl leans forward to listen.
"August 12th, 1917...." Kurt begins hesitantly but soft, slowly he begins sharing his own horrific experience within the first world war.
Kurt explains how the Americans charged the open fields of mud, water, and death. Then when the trenching began to get over ran his pioneer's flamethrowers weren't properly working.
So he had to bash a soldiers face in with the the mans own helmet while another he ended up nearly decapitating as he used his spaded shovel to drive it under the mans vocals with all his might.
Soon he was one of the last men within the trench and trying to get away he had fallen backwards onto his back from tripping over his dead comrades. He landed hard on a dead comrade, that's when it got the valve free and the flamethrower became operational.
"Watching the bodies burn, or them running as human torches with their screams of terror and suffering cries for the pain to end.... And those scared blue eyes.... Those beautiful blue eyes that would never open again because I ran my spade through that young boys neck..."
"I can't sleep at night any more Karl, as when I do, I'm back there again back in that trench in Passchendaele.... That fucking hellhole where their screams of the terror, being burned alive and dying sound." Kurt says his voice breaking and beginning to waver towards the end, his eyes averting to the floor quickly.
The way the Father and son described their horrific time of their life. It seems like if you close your eyes and listen, you can be there along side of them as both of the men can't help it.
War was never intended to be heroic, a good deed done by good fighting men. It was done by those who where scared of death, afraid to die and would do anything to survive.
There's no medal nor reward in the world that can be awarded for your "actions" on the battle field nor can the first life you take be ever forgotten as it'll come back to haunt you. A Nightmare for as long as you live.
The two gentlemen continue their slow talk and helping each other with cooping methods or ideas and the strongest one that Karl is fond of. Is getting a dog, as Kurt has done, he has gotten a Yellow Labrador retriever and it's the best type of therapy that Kurt has found. The breeder got his dogs from someplace north of America, Newfoundland was it?
Once called to dinner, conversation was low and the silence was maddening, then it slowly went from a very low key conversation. Then once the ice was broken by a joke, it has turned into what a normal family dinner is suppose to be. Everyone talking, joking, and enjoying the company of each other.
Three hours pass as it reaches 11 pm and Karls folks have left for the night and Karl's back up the hallway in his office. Sitting at his desk he gets the classified folder out and flops it down on to his desk tiredly.
He then opens it up and unfolds the folded documents, letters, and maps that's constricted to the confines of the folder. Reading the first bit of information Karl begins to review his orders.
*' On June 10th, reconisance suspects the ally invasion of Sicily will commence. All commanding General staff are to be briefed and positioned accordingly at the ready to defend and hold the Italian shores.'*
'Command orders issued to Colonel Kriesser and defense Sector E-1. You'll be defending the south eastern beaches from the commonwealth advancements, your defense sector runs a 6 mile long line to the first set of Italian defenses near Gelea beach. If failure to hold, your forces are to fall back to the northern end of Sicily.
We're counting on you to hold your lines from all invasions against your sector. The 4th regimental guard of foot, the 15th Panzer Grenadier Battalion and the 8th platoon of the 22nd Panzer Korps, "Ghost Division" has been assigned to your command by recommendation of Field Marshal Rommel.
~ Death before defeat.
Reichmarshall Hermann Göring
*Stop*
"Karl?" Klaudia softly says standing in the doorway in her night gown, her tired expression shows on her face. Looking up from the papers curiously Karl sets his sights on his beautiful wife standing in the doorway.
With a tired smile she says "Alberts asleep dear, time for us to be heading to bed as well.." She says with her gentle smile and long brunette hair gently flowing down her shoulders.
With a tired nod Karl himself gets up his eye lids are a bit heavy, but he follows Klaudia up to their bedroom where. Karl undresses and neatly folds his uniform with the pants on the bottom, upper shirt ontop with the medals showing and he puts the Knights Cross on the folded uniform.
Once he gets his boots off and he's down to his white boxers and white sleevless t-shirt he climbs into bed with his wife.
***
That's the end of this chapter folks, what are your thoughts so far?
Hope I brought some insight on what Karl is possibly experiencing as well as the horrors of war, that he and his father both survived.
Either way welcome home soldier!
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G'day:)