25 November 1944
It was weeks before Levi could leave the hospital, and barely in time. American artillery had pummeled the west side of Saint-Avold, and a week earlier, bomber planes dropped their ordinances onto the city, rocking the land. Levi had observed all of this from the safety of the hospital, too sick to move, unsure if the next artillery shell would hit them.
Luckily, the hospital remained safe. Now, the Americans were on a quick march to Saint-Avold, and that meant all the German doctors were evacuating, along with patients. The staff of the 1st Army had already left for Sankt Ingberg, 43 km deeper in Germany, well behind the Westwall. While the upper brass fled, the rest of the soldiers were preparing to hold Saint-Avold at any cost.
In the midst of this chaos, Dr. Darius Zackly led Levi out through a side door. People were in too much of a rush to mind the doctor escorting a patient out, especially a patient so small that many mistook him for a child. The good doctor was just getting a sick child out, right?
They reached the doors, and Dr. Zackly turned to Levi.
"Do you have your medications?"
"Pain meds and something to make my shit soft."
"You'll need that for at least another six weeks as you heal. If you see blood in your stool, get to a doctor immediately. Also..." He handed over another bottle. "Sleeping pills."
"I told you, I don't want those."
"For your friend. You mentioned that he was already traumatized after battle, then he was mentally tortured by the Gestapo, and now he has been alone for weeks. He may need help to sleep through the nightmares."
Levi reluctantly took the bottle. "That brat," he whispered with a hint of longing in the pinch between his brow.
"Do you have the map? Compass?"
"I double-checked all of the supplies. Thank you, Doctor. Do you have a place to go?"
"Yes, my wife and children are already with friends in the countryside. We'll wait out the battle there." He handed Levi a fedora. "Good luck, Mr. Ackerman."
Levi pulled the hat down low to hide his face. Then he walked out into the town that was trying to prepare for the coming army.
Levi marched as swiftly as he could through a light but persistent drizzle of rain. He went past German cars and horses. He pulled his coat close to him as a wind brought in the late November chill. He kept his head down to avoid the possibility of meeting someone who knew him.
Thankfully, he made it out of town without any trouble. As he reached the countryside, he pulled out the map he got from the doctor. The vineyards around Saint-Avold were marked. Eren said he would hide in a vineyard. The problem was, which? Should he go north? South? Would Eren really have gone east to be deeper into Germany?
Shaking his head, Levi randomly headed north.
The morning turned into afternoon, the drizzle let up, yet the clouds hung low and dark, threatening a storm. Levi needed to stop to eat some lunch. He had some supplies in his bag, a gift from Dr. Zackly, but he knew to conserve what he had. A bit of bread, some water from a canteen, that was enough.
He walked down the muddy road, avoiding military trucks and farmer wagons alike. He searched three farms with no results. Damn Eren for picking a vineyard, of all places, to hide in! Didn't he realize just how many vineyards France had?
He came to the fourth vineyard, opened the cellar door, and crept down.
"Eren?" he called out softly.
"I'm here."
Levi sighed in relief to have found him at last. He walked toward the voice and stopped short when he saw Eren.
"Mon dieu."
Trapped with few supplies, including being unable to shave, the nineteen-year-old had grown a scant beard, and his hair, which had already been a bit too long for the military after not getting a haircut while in Maizières-lès-Metz, had grown even longer, stringy and oily as it framed his gaunt face. He was pale from rarely venturing out of the cellar to search for food, fearing discovery and capture. The Nazi uniform, bloody and filthy, hung loosely on his half-starved body.
"You look like you just fell in a pile of shit."
Eren laughed weakly. "I missed you too. Nice eye patch. You look like you joined a pirate crew."
Levi knelt beside him and opened his backpack. Inside was some food, and he realized Eren needed it all if they were to flee.
"Eat, but hurry."
Eren grabbed the bread and dug in with a voracious appetite. Levi settled down beside him and watched Eren devouring the food. He looked at those teal eyes, darkened and sunken in, and the way Eren ate like a wild dog.
He knew that sort of hunger all too well.
Eren paused and looked up. "Have some wine. There's plenty." He waved around to the bottles and oak barrels all around him.
Levi saw a pile of empty wine bottles off to the side. "Have you been drunk this whole time?"
Eren mumbled, "No, but it helps me sleep. Besides, what else do I have to drink?" He took a bottle, opened it with experienced ease, and handed it to Levi. "To reunions."
Levi took the bottle but frowned. "We don't have time to celebrate. The Americans are a few kilometers away."
Eren ignored the warning, digging into his food ravenously. Levi frowned. Let the boy eat. He wiped the bottle off with a handkerchief and took a sip. It was good wine. At least Eren had something to enjoy during his time in hiding.
Levi muttered, "The Americans bombed Saint-Avold a week ago. I can already see their dust on the horizon. This whole area will be a battleground by tomorrow. I was worried that if I didn't find you by evening, I would have to go on alone."
Eren swallowed hard and seemed to only just now process what Levi had told him. "Americans, here? What happened?"
"Metz fell."
Eren froze in shock. He knew it was inevitable, but still ... What happened to his platoon? Did Connie, Jarnach, and the others make it? What about Jean and Reiner? Ian, Holger, Surma, Wim, so many others: how many survived?
"I heard that some of the forts are still holding out, but the city itself surrendered. Yesterday, the Americans liberated Faulquemont, and now they're on their way to Saint-Avold. When I left, the Germans had evacuated most of the wounded already, and the few civilians left were getting the hell out of there. It looked like they were ready to put up a fight."
"They will fight as long as they can, but they know they cannot hold that city. Metz had fortified hills; Saint-Avold sits in a ... what is the term ... natürlichen Talkessel ... valley ... bowl? Low land area. Schlechte Verteidigung." Natural basin. Bad defense. "It was why we made our stand in Metz. That city was only supposed to delay the Allies so everyone could consolidate behind the Westwall. If Metz is lost, the Westwall is all we've got. If they breach the Westwall, Deutschland ist dem Untergang geweiht. We are doomed." Anguish furrowed his brow. That war was no longer his to fight. His battle now was to make sure Levi got to safety. Eren washed down the bread with some of the wine. "Can you walk?"
"My arse still hurts like hell, that infection just about killed me, but my legs work. How about you? How are your injuries?"
Eren looked down to his left hand. "I've lost feeling in two fingers. I don't think it'll come back. I'm not sure about the broken arm." He looked at his right arm and the plaster cast the village doctor in Peltre had put on. "The doctor said to leave it on for six weeks. I'm not sure how much time has passed since then." Eren reached forward with his left hand and caressed Levi's face. Sadness darkened his eyes. "The worst thing is ... I can't fully feel you anymore."
Levi held up his hand with the two missing fingers. "How do you think I feel?" He clasped Eren's fingers with both of his hands. "Which parts are numb?"
"The pinkie and ring finger, along with the outer part of the hand, all the way up my arm. It tickles sometimes, but not really much feeling."
Levi brought Eren's hand up and kissed the knuckles of his index and middle fingers. He rubbed his thumb over those two fingers, like rubbing his kiss in. "Then I'll only kiss this part of your hand, so you'll always feel it." Levi kissed again, this time letting his lips drag across the skin, moist and soft, while he gazed at the blush coming up on Eren's cheeks. Such a little boy, getting so excited over a kiss to the hand!
Eren looked down at their hands, but then he saw the missing fingers and raw, bare nail beds. Levi saw Eren's eyes widen in renewed horror, but he dismissed it.
"The nails will grow back. Don't worry."
"But not your fingers." Eren could hardly help it. Tears gathered in his eyes, and his lower lip began to quiver.
"Hey," Levi said gently. "I'm alive. Let's stay alive together."
Eren nodded, but still...
Almost a month!
Weeks hiding in a cellar, in pitch darkness, whole days not leaving this area out of fear, and then only climbing out when it was dark and raining, when he figured it was least likely that he would be seen. He would gather what food he could find, stealing most of it from any house left unlocked, and hide back away.
Weeks of not knowing if Levi had survived his injuries, if they would ever see one another, if Americans would come here and drag him away first.
Weeks alone, without any human contact, trapped in this cavernous solitude as the echoes of Levi's screams haunted him late into the night until he drank enough wine to pass out.
"I missed you," he said, and a suppressed sob burst out.
Levi pulled Eren to his chest and stroked his head as Eren's emotions finally flowed out.
"I'm so sorry. I'm sorry about your eye, your hands, what happened to you, what they did to you. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
"Chut, mon amour." Levi kissed the top of Eren's head. "None of it was your fault."
While Levi spent these weeks drugged to ease the pain, with a serious infection ravaging his blood and requiring two surgeries to fix the internal damage, he realized that Eren had spent that time drowning in guilt, all alone, suffering a different sort of torture as he lived day after day not knowing if Levi was alive or dead. It all burst out now with soul-rending sobs that echoed through the cellar.
"I'm here because I want you by my side. Even with everything that happened, and everything that could happen in the future, I still want you with me, if you'll have me."
Eren sniffled up his heaving sobs and lifted his face. It was pale and splotched with pink, with wet eyes and a runny nose. He looked more like a child than ever now. Such vulnerability was both adorable and heart-wrenching for Levi.
"Really?" Eren asked, his voice choked up from crying so hard.
Levi smiled as he wiped away the tears on Eren's cheeks. "Stuck in that hospital, I realized how lonely it was without you around. So many times, I hoped you would walk through the door with that idiotic smile and annoyingly cheerful voice of yours."
Eren sputtered out a wet, half-crying laugh at the insults.
"I realized," he whispered, cupping Eren's face, "just how much I've grown attached to you. Now, having you in my arms again, I feel ... complete."
"But your eye!" he said, almost breaking into tears again.
Levi shrugged. "It means I have to look at you twice as long."
Those endearing words lightened Eren's heart, but not enough to banish the anguish he felt when looking at Levi's scarred face with its black eye patch.
"How about your ear, the one that burst?"
Eren pushed aside his grief. "I still can't hear anything out of it."
"Then we're equal. You'll be my eye; I'll be your ear."
Eren smiled bittersweetly, but his lips immediately began to quiver again. As hard as he tried to hold strong, the sobs were victorious. "I'm sorry!" he burst out with fresh tears.
Levi pulled him in again, hushing him into his clothes. "As nice as it is to know you think so much of me, we really do need to go."
"I know," he sputtered. "I ... know. I can't stop."
Levi pulled his face up. "Look at me."
Eren struggled to lift his gaze. The sight of Levi wearing an eye patch killed him inside, and Eren's eyes turned away.
"Am I so hideous?"
"No," Eren immediately insisted.
He stroked the long whiskers on Eren's cheeks and combed through the lanky hair. "You are. I don't like this beard at all. It's ugly as shit."
That made Eren laugh. Levi smiled to see his face light up. His heart burned in longing. He leaned in closer, and Eren's lips eagerly surged forward.
They kissed with weeks worth of built-up passion. Eren let out a shuddering hum at the taste of Levi's mouth and the softness of his tongue as it probed in. However, Levi pulled back much sooner than Eren wanted, leaving him with his mouth open, hoping for more.
"I definitely don't like the beard."
"Sorry. I don't have a razor."
"I do. You can shave later. You can also use my toothbrush. You haven't brushed your teeth in almost a month, and you taste like it."
Eren laughed bashfully. "I also haven't bathed."
"Oh, I could smell that from the moment I stepped in here. It stinks so bad, I thought maybe an animal had died."
He smirked as he asked the same question back at Levi. "Am I so hideous?"
Levi caressed Eren's face again. "Of course you are. So don't kiss anyone else, or they'll be sick of you."
"Oh? I can't kiss anyone at all?" he teased.
"Nope." Levi leaned forward again. "No one but me."
Eren shivered as soft warmth pressed against his lips again, although this time Levi did not use his tongue. It was just a simple, wonderful kiss, while Levi's fingers felt over him, around his ear, and down his neck. His other hand caressed over Eren's chest, down his stomach, and toward his belt. Eren's breath hitched, thinking he would touch even lower, but Levi suddenly pulled back.
"Shit. As much as I want to, an army is coming this way. We need to go."
"Right," Eren whispered, still breathless and flushed.
Levi stood and helped Eren up. He saw the bag with the book, some money, his trench knives, and the medical supplies Armin had packed, most of them used up as Eren had needed to change the dressing on his shoulder wound. Levi pulled out one of the trench knives and threaded the sheath onto his belt. He felt more at-ease now that he was armed.
He consolidated his own bag with Eren's, rolling up one to put into the other, just in case they needed it, and shouldered the bag. Eren weakly struggled to stand, holding onto a wine barrel for balance. They decided to bring one bottle of wine with them, since Levi had no idea when they would find fresh water to drink.
Finally, Levi led Eren to the entrance. Those teal eyes squinted against the gray, cloudy sky. He had been in total darkness for so long, even an overcast day was blinding.
"Take your time," Levi said, pausing for him to adjust. "I know all too well what it's like, suddenly seeing sunlight after days in the dark."
"I guess you're an expert at hiding," Eren teased.
Then he looked to the south, where he could hear the low rumble of an army on the move. Although the brightness gave Eren a headache, he pressed onward, knowing they did not want to get caught in another battle. They headed out into the vineyard and walked north to where they saw a small forest. They went slowly, Eren still squinting and shielding his eyes, while Levi walked with a slight limp as his buttocks pained him from time to time.
"Hold on." Levi brought them to a stop and began to unbuckle his belt.
"Gotta piss?"
"No! You're still wearing a German uniform. If the Americans see that, they'll think you're retreating and give chase." He shoved the trench knife into the waistband of his trousers and made the belt into a loop. "Take that blanket off."
Eren untied the prison blanket that had been his sling for weeks. Levi draped the belt around Eren's neck and tightened it so that it worked as a sling instead, giving support to the plaster cast. Then he wrapped the gray blanket around Eren's shoulders like a shawl.
"There. Now you look like a peasant and not a Nazi swine."
With that, they continued on. The trees were drawing closer, bare except for a few stubborn leaves of orange and yellow, like golden gates to freedom.
As they reached the autumnal edge, Eren turned around. They were far away now, but from this hill he could see the silhouette of the American Army rolling ever onward toward Germany.
That army had fought his friends. He did not know if they were alive or dead. Part of him hated the Americans, but he knew they were bringing liberation to France. Levi's France!
He could not fully hate an army who made it safe for Levi to be a Jew, nor could he fully hate Germany, although the Nazis wanted Levi dead just because of his religion.
He forced himself to turn away, not wanting to focus on this predicament. War was complicated, especially when the enemy was a friend.
# # #
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(One of these days, I want to go to the town of Bitche and have some muckfuck.)
THE BATTLE OF SAINT-AVOLD
Saint-Avold was not only a major city on the road to Germany, but an essential node of the Reich telephone network and railway corridor. The Allies could knock out communications and supplies in one fell swoop, and use those railways to bring in their own troops and supplies from the newly liberated Metz.
On the morning of November 17th, the 511th Fighter-Bomber Squadron dropped bombs on Saint-Avold. The Americans also hit the city with several 155 and 240 mm large-caliber rounds.
(240 mm howitzer)
On the morning of November 26th, the Americans made their advance on Saint-Avold. By 8:30 AM, they took the high ground at Longeville-lès-Saint-Avold, a hill northwest of the city that still had military defense structures, as it was once part of the Maginot Line.
(hilltop fortress at Longeville-lès-Saint-Avold)
The Germans appeared to be ready to stubbornly hold the city, fighting back with their own heavy artillery. Despite fierce shelling, the Americans began to encircle Saint-Avold. By 10:00 AM, they advanced to Bleiberg (southwest of the city) but the muddy terrain and anti-tank blockades slowed their tanks.
At 3:00 PM, the Americans were ordered to stop their advance and entrench. The Germans tried to break the line, but at 5:00 PM, six American artillery battalions opened fire, and the Germans pulled back. While brief, the battle was fierce and cost both sides in heavy casualties.
Just as it looked like the Americans might completely cut them off, the German commander received orders to retreat to the hospital to make a last stand. (Because using hospitals to hide armies to force your enemy to commit a war crime is nothing new.) However, communication lines were failing all around the city. The Germans had no idea precisely where the Americans were anymore, which roads were still open to them for a retreat. They were also cut off from regiments stationed in the surrounded villages, and they were unsure if those units were already surrounded or not.
Without communication lines, the Germans were shooting blind.
Unable to properly organize his men and realizing that the natural basin Saint-Avold occupied made for an indefensible position, the commander decided to retreat. However, the 87th Infantry Regiment (notable for being the first German division to enter Paris back in 1940) had been engaged in a firefight since that morning from their position in the woods of Heiligenbusch and Liebusch. Their communications were cut off from the division headquarters, and they did not get the orders to fall back.
The German commander assumed that the roads of Carling and Saarbrucken were still open, but without communications he had no idea how close the Americans were. He placed a company of riflemen and an assault canon near the Ambaach mill, some three kilometers northwest of Saint-Avold, to lay down suppressive fire toward the troops they knew were perched atop Longeville-lès-Saint-Avold.
The rest of the German forces retreating under the cover of night, traveling to Carling, 9 km to the north. If the Americans were aware of the retreat, they did not stop them.
(Americans march into Saint-Avold, November 27, 1944)
On the early morning of November 27th, the American XII Corps left Longeville-lès-Saint-Avold, ready to launch an attack upon the heart of Saint-Avold. The German 87th Infantry Regiment, still stuck in the woods, fired and shelled them, until they finally reestablished communication with the main division, now in Carling, and got the orders to retreat.
(Americans pass a sign in Saint-Avold pointing toward Saarbrücken)
As the Americans reached the city, they found no resistance. The Americans did a quick march through the empty streets and onward. They thought they could race from there to the Siegfried Line, but in Guenviller the 80th Infantry Division rushed headlong into the 4th company of the 17th SS-Panzergrenadier-Division, stationed in nearby Farébersviller just 3 km from the German border. The Germans opened fire, and after a night of fighting, they managed to defend their position. The Americans pulled back, regrouped in Saint-Avold, and waited for the rest of the XII Corps to catch up.
On the afternoon of November 28th, engineers from the 80th Division discovered a hidden time bomb mechanism attached to TNT at the gas plant, located in the western part of the city. The explosive charge, approximately 200 pounds, was placed under a stone staircase and lightly covered with straw. The clockwork aroused great interest, being the first of its kind to be discovered. (We now call these IEDs.)
(Soldiers dig through the rubble in search of bodies following the explosion of time bombs.)
However, it was not the only bomb left behind. The Germans had rigged bombs in multiple locations, set to go off 6 days later, calculated to catch the main force of the Americans. On the evening of Saturday, December 3rd, a terrible explosion was heard in the northern part of the city, and a huge ball of flames curled into the sky. A bomb had been planted under where the Gestapo headquarters had been. One hour later, four more bombs went off at public squares, main intersections, and the De Brack barracks. 22 Americans were killed, including four officers, and 33 wounded.
(Saint-Avold medical tents)
The Americans were able to use the hospital in Saint-Avold and set up a medical tent city. Many soldiers injured during the Lorraine Campaign were sent there.
Sadly, it was also where they sent their dead.
(Lorraine American Cemetery and Memorial)
In total, the American Third Army sustained 55,182 combat casualties in the Lorraine Campaign. Today, Saint-Avold is the site of the largest United States World War II military cemetery in Europe, the Lorraine American Cemetery and Memorial, with the graves of 10,489 American soldiers.
(drone photo of the Lorraine American Cemetery and Memorial)