"Ugh, this is the dinner we've had every day of the last month and a half!" came the exasperated cry of a lone soldier sitting next to our friend. He was a peculiar man, and always had a particular way of describing things. "The cans our food comes in are like hockey pucks, but worse because they'll dent!" He reported to the rag tag group, kicking the can that contained rice and beans into the weeds. Our friend, August Schumacker III, looked at his compatriot and rolled his eyes. August had a very strict appearance. He wore a standard uniform, nothing fancy. He had a large button on his jacket collar however, a signifier of his rank. He was of short stature, not very intimidating. He had a milk bottle white complexion with a very light blond hair worn in a simple comb over haircut. His eyes, however, were unique. He had deep amethyst purple eyes, a unique feature in his family. The men had eyes the color of amethyst, and the women the color of fire opal. He was a married man, and loved his wife and three sons very much.
These Hessians, they wouldn't know a square meal if it walked up and kicked them in the crotch. August thought to himself, reaching into his pocket and trying to find something he'd been gifted by his father. An old and slightly dirty handkerchief. On it had the initials AS II, the initials of his grandfather. It meant a great deal to August, as he had a great deal of pride towards his grandfather. He was an officer in the Bavarian army during the Franco Prussian war, and was well known for his tough as nails leading style. If you didn't meet his standards, you'd be back home and shoveling crap on your dad's pig farm. August the third however, was a tough as nails sergeant and not an officer, but he knew he'd get the promotion to lieutenant sooner than later. "Y'know, Helmut, I can still report to your sergeant you're being an idiot and throwing your food around instead of eating it." Helmut looked over with venom in his eyes, but didn't say anything. "Now, I recommend you finish your bread and get some rest in, because we'll be going over the top tomorrow."
Helmut, full name being Helmut Bauer, sighed and slumped down onto the trench bench we'd built in the prior few weeks. "You're an ass, you know that right?"
"Also a sergeant of the Kaiser's army, and I'm not gonna let you be an insubordinate little mongrel in my squad, understand me?" came the swift and sharp response of the annoyed sergeant. "We're on the border of France and if we're in top form we can push into the heartland and take Paris by the end of the month."
Helmut rolled his eyes. "And we'll be home by Christmas, right after we fill the trenches back in." This remark was not appreciated by the sergeant.
"That will be the responsibility of the losing army, which will not be ours, now shut up and drink your beer, or wine, or whatever else they gave us instead." August snapped, and he wasn't going to respond to whatever he said next. Instead, he went to sleep. He didn't know what it was, but something made him wake in the middle of the night and reach for his rosary beads to pray. "Most merciful God, I pray to you in this time of great trouble and strife. I try to keep your word in my heart and live by it in my life. I work hard every day, as well as on the sabbath when you deem it for us to rest, and I do not do as you may wish of me. I have killed innocent men, and have had to steal and pillage too. I beg of you forgiveness, for these things I have done and the people I have hurt. In your name I pray, amen." He finished and looked up on the trench parapet. There was a Frenchman? Well, at least he thought it was one, he couldn't see too well because of the light around him making him a silhouette. "Hallo?" the sergeant said, only to receive no response. The figure just looked at him and nodded, throwing him what looked like a piece of paper. It was crumpled, and not really worth keeping it.
"Keep it" came a deep booming voice, "if you come face to face with death, read it aloud and you shall see salvation." he continued. August was surprised at the volume, and was about to ask what the figure meant, but it disappeared before he could. The stunned sergeant opened the crumpled note. He read it to himself, still shocked that his men didn't hear any of what just happened. It was rather long.
It read 'deum clementissimum, qui es in caelis, te oro in ultimis meis temporibus. Mea culpa est, omnia feci. Grande dedecus pro omnibus feci et veniam scelerum peto. Peto, ut me a meis iniquitatibus liberas, ut te in regno gravium coniungam et in aeterna beatitudine tecum et omnibus Sanctis vivam. Miserere mei, quoniam feci in inferno tempus meum. Amen.' He raised an eye confused, but given what he just saw, he figured it wouldn't hurt to try.
The morning came quickly, and the time for going over the top was fast approaching. Helmut had gone back to the unit of Hessians he'd come from. "I won't lie, I'm glad he went back, he was a wet blanket." said the second in command, August rolled his eyes.
"Trust me, I'm grateful too, insubordinate prick." came the plain and blunt reply of the sergeant. He was still thinking about the night before. He had no clue what he actually saw, he only recollected seeing the bottom of the man's legs the the top of his hat. He wore black boots with black gaiters, and the top of his hat was fire engine red. These were trademarks of the French soldiers in the opposite trench. He just sighed and poked his eyes above the parapet, looking out over no man's land. There was a house out there, a small French house. He decided he'd try and duck inside it during the charge and try to take out the French machine gunner if he could. "What time is it Whilhelm?"
"8:50am sir, when are we going over?" the young soldier asked after giving the response.
"9:00 even, say your final prayers gentlemen" August said, pulling up his rosary again and thinking about his wife and children. His mind went back to his youngest, Friedrich.
3 years prior
"Come on Friedrich, come to papa!" the excited father said to his baby, looking into the identical amethyst eyes his son had. The baby, who was about to take his first steps, cooed happily at him. The mother was right behind him, and his older siblings were watching with indifference in their eyes. Slowly and cautiously, the baby raised his foot, and moved forward.
"He's going to do it, he's going to do it Auggie!" his wife said excitedly, her hazel eyes shone bright with excitement that only a mother watching her child take their first steps can have. The baby took one step, then another, then a third, and slowly but surely he got to his father. The father, who was tearing up from his excitement, hugged the young baby close to him.
"Dad, are you crying?" asked Thomas, the oldest son.
"Yes Thomas, I'm just, proud" August responded to his son, before they went and got a special treat of ice cream.
Back to the present
The memory brought tears to his eyes. He sniffled a little, wiping the tears away from his eyes and pulling up his rifle and making sure there was a round in the chamber. His second in command raised an eyebrow and patted the non commissioned officer on the shoulder. "Are you alright sir? You look like you're crying."
"Dieter!" the NCO shouted, grabbing the lower ranked soldier by his collar and shaking him a little bit. "I am not crying! I just have something in my eye! And even if I were there'd be nothing wrong with it!" He then turned on his heel and marched right up to the ladder leading to no man's land they had built for themselves, y'know, just to make it easier to charge into hell and die. He started praying silently again, just wanting to get at least one prayer in before he went. Soon, they heard the dreaded sound that would send them over, the officer's trench whistle. "Onward! Up and over!" the sergeant yelled at his men as they ran into no man's land.
August ducked immediately upon leaving the trench, jumping into a shell hole left by French artillery. His boots landed in shin deep muddy water, he gagged a little bit but just poked his head above the edge of the hole's edge. The spike of his helmet promptly got shot off and he had to duck down. He decided he'd have to make a grand show of trying to escape them, he knew that he'd have to get to that house with unhinged doors and busted out windows. He readied himself to run out as his men jumped in with him. "Dieter! You actually managed to find me, that's a surprise."
"Well sir we couldn't let you die alone, what should we do?" Dieter asked and reached for his bayonet.
"Take my helmet and stick it on the end of that bayonet, hold it up as a distraction for enemy snipers, the Frenchies are damn good at shooting us in the head" The sergeant commanded, Dieter didn't argue and got to work fastening the helmet. "Everyone else, follow me, and pray to God that the snipers don't see you." He ordered again and when fire was diverted, they ran out the side of the hole. Dieter soon followed behind, just narrowly avoiding being shot as they ducked into the small house. "Franz, guard the door, let us know if any Poulis start trying to get in, if they do let me know and we'll run down and take them down together!"
"Of course herr vizefeldwebel, I'll keep my good eye out!" yelled the soldier and ran to the door, holding it shut and watching through the peephole, keeping an eye out for the enemy.
"Alright you lot, follow me upstairs and we'll rain rifle fire and grenades on top of their heads!" came the next order from the sergeant, who'd replaced his helmet with his cloth cap by this point. They ran upstairs. The upper floor, unlike the bottom floor which was laid bare, was comfortably furnished with large chairs, a large rug with a radio on top, and several medium sized windows, just large enough to shoot out of and throw grenades out of. "Shoot at them first, when you run out of ammo start killing them with our grenades!" he ordered again.
"Sir, we're gonna get mortared or shot eventually, what do we do if the roof gets blown out?" asked the newest private there, he was inexperienced in the field of battle.
"Well private, run for your God given life if you survive it, that's all I have to say!" he shouted back, and they immediately got to fighting. August remembered the paper and reached into his pocket. Unfortunately, though they did not know this, a French artillery crew had received an order to blow the house to smithereens. The sergeant started immediately repeating the words on the paper to himself.
"Sergeant, why are your eyes glowing? They're filling the room with purple light!" Dieter shouted, his eyes going wide and unsure if they should be worrying about the French at this moment. August didn't respond, in fact he couldn't. His mind had started being controlled by a higher power at this moment, and started speaking Latin to his comrades.
"Domine mi, magister et pastor spiritus mei, invoco te ut salvos facias istos iuxta me pugnantes, et deprecor te inopiam et necessitatem salvandi homines meos et det eis beatitudinem aeternam in regno celorum, ubi omnes boni sunt. et mulieres dies una!" came the words from his mouth, the house creaking and shuddering as he suddenly fell to the floor, coughing some blood upon the Parisian rug sprawled out on the floor. "What, what the hell did I just do, Dieter?"
"I don't know sir, all I know is-" the sentence was cut short as a 75mm explosive shell flew in through the window, exploding the floor underneath them and killing everyone in the house in a flash of fire and brimstone. Several minutes in darkness passed. The slow beating of a heart filled everyone's heads, each beat of the heart felt like a bass drum right next to their ears. Then, as if it was magic, the world turned white and blue.
"Huh? Where am I? Came a honest question, it was August asking naturally. He sat up, rubbing his head. "This isn't the Marne! Im supposed to be leading men in battle!" he said and jumped up, trying to find out what to do and where to go. It was safe to say, he was panicking.
"You are heaven's gate, August, you must calm yourself" came a comforting yet authoritative voice. August realized what they said and was shocked. "Yes, it is I, Saint Peter, and yes this is the actual gates to heaven. You will be judged based on your sins, and the content of your character. Have you always turned the other cheek, and to the church have you stayed true?"
August looked up at the Saint, and with a dry mouth and shook his head. "No sir, I guess i aint, but a man who carries a rifle for work is not, unlike you, a saint. I've had to work most Sundays, and at time's my actions have been tough. But I haven't taken a scrap of what isn't mine to keep, even if the strain started to get steep."
"Hmm, this is a hard one, August. Well, it should be a hard one in actuality." replied the saint as he grabbed a scroll from a nearby table. "Have you ever wondered why, August, your eyes are the color they are, why all the men in your family have the color they do?"
"No I haven't sir, I've just assumed it was a genetic defect, something we don't really know how it happened. It just ran in the family." he answered the saint honestly.
"Not at all, in fact," he unrolled the scroll and started to read it. "It says here your family was one chosen by God, to protect soldiers and keep them safe in battle."
"Hah, lot of good I did to the men under my command, they died in an artillery strike with me." August responded, his eyes darkening slightly in concern and worry. "Good Lord, they didn't get sent to hell did they?!"
"No, good Schumaker, that prayer in latin you said saved both your soul and your comrades' souls, and for one I'm glad it did." The saint said with a large smile. "And you're welcome into the kingdom of heaven, where you'll live in peace. You'll have all you will need, you'll have food, any drink you could want, your wife and children, your friends, and activities you love doing at your fingertips. All you need to do to have an activity at your hands is say so and an angel will help you fulfill your request."
"My wife and kids? They aren't dead are they?!" the soldier asked in panic and the saint responded with a laugh.
"No they aren't, dear friend, now come on in, they're waiting for you." the saint said with a smile and opened the gate into heaven, allowing the soldier to walk through with a wide eyed look on his face. He stumbled through the gate, heaven's light surrounding as the gate shut behind him, and he saw what his heaven was to him.