Hi guys! Though I'm new here, Beka asked if I could be the next in line to post an inspirational picture, and since we're so close to Halloween... I hope this one gets the motor's running! See you all in a week! :-D
Wednesday, October 30, 2013
Thursday, October 24, 2013
Weekly Expressions week #5 Joe
My name is Paul, and I'm standing here waiting in the cold foggy street, hoping the face of my lover will soon somehow appear in through the mist. Having not seen her in so long makes me grow anxious, a type of feeling I've been growing accustomed to more and more, but I don't much care for it at all. After all those years of those camps, it was good to be back in a place of familiarity. The camps though, and the soldiers, was what parted us. Yes, it's coming back now, how the soldiers separated us in the first place. Wait a minute, I've got it how happened.
France
May 9th, 1940
The time is 6:00 P.M.
I was there sitting on a grassy hill next to Acacia, ah yes, that was her name, Acacia. Pretty name, I had never heard a prettier name in my entire existence of living in this world. Anyways, we were in love with each other. So much so, that if one left the other for to long, the other would be heart broken for sure. It was more than an infatuation, or some silly enthusiastic urge that comes and goes, but this was a relationship between two people that no one could ever stop. We were by each other's side all the livelong days, most likely talking about the future the two of us might have.When we weren't talking with each other about our future, we would be conversing of something we could never do, but the imaginative reasoning we embraced was all that mattered at the time. As we sat there happy, joyous, and peaceful sitting there on that hilly area, we were content. "So", I said, "I was thinking of you the other day, so I wrote this for you." I then handed Acacia a piece of paper with a poem I had written. "Oh my word!", she said. These were the words written on it exactly.
I will always love you with all my might,
Even if I have to fight for that right.
It will be you and I forever.
Breaking us apart will be never. Our lives are not to be looked upon with pity, For our fond embraces will go on for eternity!
So let it of us be truly said, Tomorrow, may we be wed?
"YES, YES, YES!", she said. "Of course I will marry you, but where will we live, where will we going, and how will we get there"? "Have faith", I said to her reassuringly."We'll make it somehow through the world, it may take us awhile, but we can survive. Trust me?" "Alright then, tomorrow it will be, and we will; therefore by tomorrow, be married!""Of course", I said,"It'll be easy!"This was, at least, what I thought at that moment would be happening the next day, a marriage!
But things aren't always guaranteed to go the way that best suits your needs or wants. In fact, I'd wished I had heard before, or even remembered that Germany, had invaded Poland in September of 1939. What's the point of this information at this moment you ask, when love has to this point been the only subject approached at said time in this account? Well because it is, in itself, very "vital" to the story. Germany apparently had been planning to invade France for sometime, and Hitler himself had proposed to invade it on October 25, although others told him to accept the facts of it not being a realistic enough date to have invasion for there, so he came to the conclusion it wasn't a good time after all. But the date they did begin invading was May 10th 1940(aka. my wedding date).
That night they worked their way through different communes(towns) and villages across France until they got to our's. If only I'd have known, then I could have somehow in some way prevented it, but it must have not been God's plan for me to wake up before it all occurred to warn anyone of the evil coming for us that day. So as they came for us, they were but 10 miles away from the church that morning. The priest came forward to us thus beginning the ceremony for our marriage, and as we both beheld the eye's of the other, our deepest love started ever upward to new heights for one another."Do you take this woman, to be your lawfully wedded wife?", asked the priest."For richer or for poor, in sickness and in health? So long as ye both shall live?""I do", I said."And do you take this man, to be your lawfully wedded husband............"I couldn't hear anything the priest was saying just then, probably because I felt like my feet were lifted from the ground, and my spirit was soaring all around the auditorium of the church, even higher than the clouds was where my mind was. A sort of ecstasy up in my head was happening until she said,"I do." I do, there, she said it. It was as if my race in life was won, and I had finished strong, I wanted so badly to throw my fist in a rock clenched way in the air just then. YES! Then the priest started to say, as in he didn't finish,"From this day on, I now pronounce you...." Suddenly something whirled past us, and into the head of the priest. Blood splattered from his face, as he struggled against this small flying object that had shot through his skull. Shot? A bullet! From who?
There clamoring and bursting forth into the church were men dressed in black, being armed with armed with guns, and wearing a red band on their forearms. They said nothing as they came in, all that happened was that one with a rifle on his shoulder began shooting all religious items in the room. Another bigger man grabbed onto Acacia's arm with his left hand, and tightly wrapped his arm around her waist with his right arm. I shot my fist out at the man's face, which caught him squarely in the mouth, hearing a loud cracking sound(Presumably implying some teeth may have been knocked in). Writhing in agony from the blow to his now aching fat lip, he fell to the floor holding his face, making sure that his features were not totally wrecked.
As he lay there, two more men grabbed me, taking me away from my precious Acacia. Flinging my arms to get free from their ever tightening clutches, it was a struggle,but I could see was Acacia being dragged further and further on. Then I just had it, I grabbed at one of the men hustling me forward to who knows where, and kneed him one in the chest .Which angered him so much, he did an uppercut to my chin.That in turn sent me flying. On the ground, I lay unconscious, the feeling in my entire body went numb. The world I was living in growing ever darker.
Four days later
Destination or place of location: Unknown
Known fact: Can't see a thing
Conclusion not hoped to be true: I'm dead
Another miscellaneous question: Is the above conclusion true
Darkness, I found myself in it without my Acacia, just the abyss of black crowding against me. It was surrounding me with it's horrifying presence until, no longer could I get away from it unless the sides were not barred. Well, the sides of this darkness were closing in now, it would be only a matter of time before I'd be swallowed by it. No way of escaping it this time in my head. Feels like a set of nightmarish happenings and goings on more like, but wait this is a dream, of course! Nothing bad could be going on right? Wrong. Very wrong.
I was in a camp of some sort. No, wait, a camp? Oh no, THE CAMPS, the concentration camps. That must be where I am, I mean I've never been to one before, but I'd heard people talk of such things. Torture, violence between inmates, and humans being killed almost everyday if trying to escape. Little knowing I would be in one, by force obviously, but taken to one none the less, I would have struggled more than ever. But the smell of rotting flesh is in the air, ugh, the putrid festering stench filling my lungs. Shouting suddenly is the sound I here trampling through my thoughts, who is it, I can hardly see where I am, let alone hear sounds well enough. "GET OUTSIDE!", shouts a voice."ALL OF YOU RIGHT NOW!ROUST!ROUST!ROUST!"
I could hear that. Running out in my bare feet, I saw the person monitoring starting to speak in what was German I presume, spouting orders here and there. None of which I could understand, but if someone begins dragging one of many people away who are outside next to me to an empty warehouse, I just am assuming their not invited to have a picnic with these Nazis. A shriek of grueling pain seems to pierce the silence in that moment, and everyone realizes someone has been executed, probably a sign of more that awaits us. Skipping on through time many more days resided in that daily. Killing a person if not most of the time a good portion of it, and if not that extreme torture was applied here, even I had to endure such things on a usual basis.
Well as days grew to months, those months grew into a year, and that year grew into three years. Three full years without my precious Acacia, devoid of a loving wistful glance towards mine, with nothing even close to hope breaching thoughts whatsoever. It all began to seem hopeless. Now you would be thinking,"Began to seem hopeless? Why Hadn't you given up before, the time when you first found out your destination was here, Why?" "Because I'm not that type person", says I."I don't just give up the ship so to speak that easily. I'm different than most, but now it's much harder to imagine getting through this more than ever. I believe now is the time where I give up, giving over my thoughts to dying, and wasting away."
THUD!BOOM!CRASH! These are the sounds coming from the outside, I feel it in my bones, something terrible is happening. The noise caving in on my mind, my very life is at line, whatever is going on it's not good. I can just see it now, more soldiers of the Third Reich coming in, blasting there way to any one these cold hovel-like structures we stay in. Marching on into them, taking people out and shooting them on the spot! Hitler is probably at his peak of anger at this very moment, and even more likely to bring a total apocalyptic terror upon us. Destroying the weak, dying, needy ones first. Then he'll move on to the stronger, yeah, dealing them out of this world with the finesse of a demon. Ahhh, my time is come. I must now accept without question that my arrival to death is finally here at last!
But that wasn't what happened, instead it was soldiers of a different caliber and belief, they weren't German at all. In fact they were mowing all the Germans with there guns, firing at them, never missing their mark. So it was after the Germans were vanquished, these soldiers came in and brought many separate vehicles, and began a journey to where we never expected to be. France.
France
June 20th, 1943
The time is 7:00 A.M.
After the good soldiers came for us, whoever they were, which their origin was uncertain. They dropped us off in France, God bless 'em for that, my life is ever in debt to them. Well it didn't take me but 4 days to get back to my community, you know the place where I live. Well here I am, looking in this street, or what's left of the streets of this area after the Germans came. A mist surrounds me as I stare towards the grassy hill where Acacia and I would oft talk with each other at. Ooooo, cold morning for June, a bit breezy indeed. But wait! Who's that on the hill there, oh it's an old woman(wearing a cloaked shall), maybe if I talk to her I can find out Acacia's alive. Here goes nothing,"Old woman there, have you soon a girl more beautiful than you've ever imagined, and prettier than a sunset?" "What's her name?", the lady asked."Acacia", I said to her."Sweetest name I've ever known!" "Are you sure?", the old lady questioned."You positive you love her so much do you?" "Yes, I love with every ounce of my being
!", I told her."I could never live without her being next me!" "Well then here she is!" The old woman took off her shall, then revealing herself to be Acacia! Then we ran to each other and embraced, finally we were together.
France
May 9th, 1940
The time is 6:00 P.M.
I was there sitting on a grassy hill next to Acacia, ah yes, that was her name, Acacia. Pretty name, I had never heard a prettier name in my entire existence of living in this world. Anyways, we were in love with each other. So much so, that if one left the other for to long, the other would be heart broken for sure. It was more than an infatuation, or some silly enthusiastic urge that comes and goes, but this was a relationship between two people that no one could ever stop. We were by each other's side all the livelong days, most likely talking about the future the two of us might have.When we weren't talking with each other about our future, we would be conversing of something we could never do, but the imaginative reasoning we embraced was all that mattered at the time. As we sat there happy, joyous, and peaceful sitting there on that hilly area, we were content. "So", I said, "I was thinking of you the other day, so I wrote this for you." I then handed Acacia a piece of paper with a poem I had written. "Oh my word!", she said. These were the words written on it exactly.
I will always love you with all my might,
Even if I have to fight for that right.
It will be you and I forever.
Breaking us apart will be never. Our lives are not to be looked upon with pity, For our fond embraces will go on for eternity!
So let it of us be truly said, Tomorrow, may we be wed?
"YES, YES, YES!", she said. "Of course I will marry you, but where will we live, where will we going, and how will we get there"? "Have faith", I said to her reassuringly."We'll make it somehow through the world, it may take us awhile, but we can survive. Trust me?" "Alright then, tomorrow it will be, and we will; therefore by tomorrow, be married!""Of course", I said,"It'll be easy!"This was, at least, what I thought at that moment would be happening the next day, a marriage!
But things aren't always guaranteed to go the way that best suits your needs or wants. In fact, I'd wished I had heard before, or even remembered that Germany, had invaded Poland in September of 1939. What's the point of this information at this moment you ask, when love has to this point been the only subject approached at said time in this account? Well because it is, in itself, very "vital" to the story. Germany apparently had been planning to invade France for sometime, and Hitler himself had proposed to invade it on October 25, although others told him to accept the facts of it not being a realistic enough date to have invasion for there, so he came to the conclusion it wasn't a good time after all. But the date they did begin invading was May 10th 1940(aka. my wedding date).
That night they worked their way through different communes(towns) and villages across France until they got to our's. If only I'd have known, then I could have somehow in some way prevented it, but it must have not been God's plan for me to wake up before it all occurred to warn anyone of the evil coming for us that day. So as they came for us, they were but 10 miles away from the church that morning. The priest came forward to us thus beginning the ceremony for our marriage, and as we both beheld the eye's of the other, our deepest love started ever upward to new heights for one another."Do you take this woman, to be your lawfully wedded wife?", asked the priest."For richer or for poor, in sickness and in health? So long as ye both shall live?""I do", I said."And do you take this man, to be your lawfully wedded husband............"I couldn't hear anything the priest was saying just then, probably because I felt like my feet were lifted from the ground, and my spirit was soaring all around the auditorium of the church, even higher than the clouds was where my mind was. A sort of ecstasy up in my head was happening until she said,"I do." I do, there, she said it. It was as if my race in life was won, and I had finished strong, I wanted so badly to throw my fist in a rock clenched way in the air just then. YES! Then the priest started to say, as in he didn't finish,"From this day on, I now pronounce you...." Suddenly something whirled past us, and into the head of the priest. Blood splattered from his face, as he struggled against this small flying object that had shot through his skull. Shot? A bullet! From who?
There clamoring and bursting forth into the church were men dressed in black, being armed with armed with guns, and wearing a red band on their forearms. They said nothing as they came in, all that happened was that one with a rifle on his shoulder began shooting all religious items in the room. Another bigger man grabbed onto Acacia's arm with his left hand, and tightly wrapped his arm around her waist with his right arm. I shot my fist out at the man's face, which caught him squarely in the mouth, hearing a loud cracking sound(Presumably implying some teeth may have been knocked in). Writhing in agony from the blow to his now aching fat lip, he fell to the floor holding his face, making sure that his features were not totally wrecked.
As he lay there, two more men grabbed me, taking me away from my precious Acacia. Flinging my arms to get free from their ever tightening clutches, it was a struggle,but I could see was Acacia being dragged further and further on. Then I just had it, I grabbed at one of the men hustling me forward to who knows where, and kneed him one in the chest .Which angered him so much, he did an uppercut to my chin.That in turn sent me flying. On the ground, I lay unconscious, the feeling in my entire body went numb. The world I was living in growing ever darker.
Four days later
Destination or place of location: Unknown
Known fact: Can't see a thing
Conclusion not hoped to be true: I'm dead
Another miscellaneous question: Is the above conclusion true
Darkness, I found myself in it without my Acacia, just the abyss of black crowding against me. It was surrounding me with it's horrifying presence until, no longer could I get away from it unless the sides were not barred. Well, the sides of this darkness were closing in now, it would be only a matter of time before I'd be swallowed by it. No way of escaping it this time in my head. Feels like a set of nightmarish happenings and goings on more like, but wait this is a dream, of course! Nothing bad could be going on right? Wrong. Very wrong.
I was in a camp of some sort. No, wait, a camp? Oh no, THE CAMPS, the concentration camps. That must be where I am, I mean I've never been to one before, but I'd heard people talk of such things. Torture, violence between inmates, and humans being killed almost everyday if trying to escape. Little knowing I would be in one, by force obviously, but taken to one none the less, I would have struggled more than ever. But the smell of rotting flesh is in the air, ugh, the putrid festering stench filling my lungs. Shouting suddenly is the sound I here trampling through my thoughts, who is it, I can hardly see where I am, let alone hear sounds well enough. "GET OUTSIDE!", shouts a voice."ALL OF YOU RIGHT NOW!ROUST!ROUST!ROUST!"
I could hear that. Running out in my bare feet, I saw the person monitoring starting to speak in what was German I presume, spouting orders here and there. None of which I could understand, but if someone begins dragging one of many people away who are outside next to me to an empty warehouse, I just am assuming their not invited to have a picnic with these Nazis. A shriek of grueling pain seems to pierce the silence in that moment, and everyone realizes someone has been executed, probably a sign of more that awaits us. Skipping on through time many more days resided in that daily. Killing a person if not most of the time a good portion of it, and if not that extreme torture was applied here, even I had to endure such things on a usual basis.
Well as days grew to months, those months grew into a year, and that year grew into three years. Three full years without my precious Acacia, devoid of a loving wistful glance towards mine, with nothing even close to hope breaching thoughts whatsoever. It all began to seem hopeless. Now you would be thinking,"Began to seem hopeless? Why Hadn't you given up before, the time when you first found out your destination was here, Why?" "Because I'm not that type person", says I."I don't just give up the ship so to speak that easily. I'm different than most, but now it's much harder to imagine getting through this more than ever. I believe now is the time where I give up, giving over my thoughts to dying, and wasting away."
THUD!BOOM!CRASH! These are the sounds coming from the outside, I feel it in my bones, something terrible is happening. The noise caving in on my mind, my very life is at line, whatever is going on it's not good. I can just see it now, more soldiers of the Third Reich coming in, blasting there way to any one these cold hovel-like structures we stay in. Marching on into them, taking people out and shooting them on the spot! Hitler is probably at his peak of anger at this very moment, and even more likely to bring a total apocalyptic terror upon us. Destroying the weak, dying, needy ones first. Then he'll move on to the stronger, yeah, dealing them out of this world with the finesse of a demon. Ahhh, my time is come. I must now accept without question that my arrival to death is finally here at last!
But that wasn't what happened, instead it was soldiers of a different caliber and belief, they weren't German at all. In fact they were mowing all the Germans with there guns, firing at them, never missing their mark. So it was after the Germans were vanquished, these soldiers came in and brought many separate vehicles, and began a journey to where we never expected to be. France.
France
June 20th, 1943
The time is 7:00 A.M.
After the good soldiers came for us, whoever they were, which their origin was uncertain. They dropped us off in France, God bless 'em for that, my life is ever in debt to them. Well it didn't take me but 4 days to get back to my community, you know the place where I live. Well here I am, looking in this street, or what's left of the streets of this area after the Germans came. A mist surrounds me as I stare towards the grassy hill where Acacia and I would oft talk with each other at. Ooooo, cold morning for June, a bit breezy indeed. But wait! Who's that on the hill there, oh it's an old woman(wearing a cloaked shall), maybe if I talk to her I can find out Acacia's alive. Here goes nothing,"Old woman there, have you soon a girl more beautiful than you've ever imagined, and prettier than a sunset?" "What's her name?", the lady asked."Acacia", I said to her."Sweetest name I've ever known!" "Are you sure?", the old lady questioned."You positive you love her so much do you?" "Yes, I love with every ounce of my being
!", I told her."I could never live without her being next me!" "Well then here she is!" The old woman took off her shall, then revealing herself to be Acacia! Then we ran to each other and embraced, finally we were together.
Wednesday, October 23, 2013
Weekly Expressions week #5 ~TJ
"Hit the dirt!!!" I barely climbed under a metal wheelbarrow before the mortar shell hit not fifteen feet from where I was crouching. The shrapnel rattled the wheelbarrow with deafening rattle and made a few dents.
"Alexandr! Alex, are you alright?!" Vladimir called.
"Dah, I'm fine. Are you?" I wondered if he could hear me through all the gunfire and explosions going on.
"Grosky and I are fine, everyone got blown to tomato sauce by that last volley!" He yelled in panic before diving into a pre-dug trench.
I dove into a mortar hole, I figured the bombardiers operating the enemy artillery wouldn't bother to shoot the same place twice. I counted myself lucky for making these past three days, although I've barely fired a shot, I've been shot at nearly non-stop.
The German Nazis invaded our city barely a month ago. If the other front lines are like this one, then I simply can't believe how they haven't taken the city yet... or razed it. The latter was more likely to happen, I haven't seen a building with a roof in nearly a full day. Our rations were out, our ammo was nearly gone, (we're to the point of picking ammunition off of our fallen comrades before they have time to bleed.) and our air, armor, and artillery support was something of a joke.
"We have to take that hill!" Vladimir reminded me, "if we don't take that MG emplacement, we're all dead men!"
I was pretty sure the number of men still alive on this hill could be counted on my fingers, but I didn't dare turn my head to look. There were three rounds left in my Mosin Nagant, and if I was lucky, I could hit a German soldier running the length of the sandbag emplacement not a baseball's throw from where I was prone. I took up my rifle, aimed, and missed. The soldier and ducked under cover again. Then he jerked up with a hurl of blood coming from his chest. "Got 'im! You're clear to the sandbags!" Grosky yelled.
I ran with the nimble bit of might I had left up to the sandbag wall. Grosky tried to run for a tank trap about 20 feet from where I was standing. I turned to look to see what our next plan was when I saw Grosky shattered by a quick spray of machine gun fire. Without thinking, I used the diversion to take a shot off at the gunner. I took aim, the gunner followed example, then I shot first, and not a moment too soon. The gunner jerked backward into the bunker with a splash of blood from his head. The newfound adrenaline from my first kill of the war led me up the the bunker's window. I dove in, half-expecting to be shot, but no one noticed. There were three Germans in the bunker, two shooting out windows opposite of where I came in, and one gathering ammo from nearby crates. I quickly made sure my bayonet was on tight, then charged the man gathering ammo, as he would be the first one to notice me. I thrust my improvised pike into his back, then proceeded to do the same to the other two gunners. Suddenly the shooting stopped. Mortars could still be heard firing in the distance, but no nearby gunshot was heard. It was over.
I was congratulated by Vladimir for my first kill of the war, and assured me that I'd have a medal pinned to my jacket if there were any officers still alive. We started the invasion of this half of town with 1,200 men, after I captured the bunker and regrouped, heads totaled just over 100. We considered changing into German uniforms and infiltrating the rest of the occupied city, but it wouldn't matter at the rate both sides were getting killed. We rounded up as much ammo as we could for our issued rifles but we left the German machine guns in the bunker in case we had to retreat to a rally point.
At this point in the war, nothing was surprising. We knew we were losing, both sides knew the Germans didn't like what it was costing them to invade our motherland, and we knew we'd both have to retreat until more German forces from the french invasion arrived. Then it was only a matter of time.
Vladimir took command of the rest of our group. Not because of rank, but because he was the only one daring enough to take charge in this bloody meat grinder. We all agreed we needed rest, so after we found some canned food from German corpses (We practically lived off of our enemies' goods) Vladimir gave me the first watch, since I confessed I was still giddy from my first kills earlier. We hunkered down in a tractor factory, and I sat on the top floor, watching out of a window while perched on a three-legged table. I was there for about five minutes before I heard a voice behind me, "don't shoot."
I barely registered the request before I almost did shoot. There was someone in a Russian uniform, in the shadows behind me.
"Wish granted, now show yourself." I ordered, but I didn't expect a woman. A beautiful woman with black hair and crystal blue eyes. "Who are you?"
"Natasha Tradinkov, self-assigned sniper. And you?"
Most women I met in this war were merciless and filled with anger when talking to a soldier male. The conscription of women was not uncommon, that's not what caught me. What caught me was how she asked innocently, with a gentle voice, as if we really were fighting on the same side and not trying to prove men or women better fighters.
"Alaxandr Sokalov, self-assigned... soldier, I guess."
She smiled for a moment, then pointed to the window, "you know, if you wish to be shot you're going about it in a great way! Come over here and look through these blinds. A beginner sniper could hit you at that window."
I followed her instructions and gazed through a crack in the metal blinds in the window down from where I was sitting before. Her advice proved true. I could see just as much, just not at one time, and I felt much less watched.
"How long have you been sitting up here?" I asked while examining my new scout point.
"I got here about this time last night, I've killed 2 colonels, 6 lieutenants, 3 captains and I think I may have wounded a field marshal."
I gave her a long questioning glance, not believing what I was hearing. She smiled again, "I guess I'm a crack-shot!"
I forgot what happened in those next few minutes. It went from giving her an unbelieving glance, to noticing her crystal eyes, rounded ears, cloaked hair... she was truly gorgeous. "What?" She asked, snapping me back into reality.
"Nyet. It's nothing." I defended myself, then returned to my gaze out the window. It's entirely possible that we may both be dead in the next hour, there's no point in working on a crush. War was no time for love. But that didn't stop us from having a conversation, she asked question after question about my experiences in the war, what was going on beyond this block, how badly we're outnumbered, how I took over the German bunker. She stopped when the sun began to wink at us in the east.
"Well, I fear I must go."
I was enjoying the company of my friend too much to consider when we must part our ways, "wait, why?"
She slung her scoped Mosin over her shoulder, "our sniper teams have killed many officers, the remaining German troops are going to have orders to regroup in the mines to the east, and then redeployed in a counter-assault."
"How would you know that?" I asked.
She winked at me then smiled, "that's what I'd do! And besides, there's guaranteed business there. If I'm lucky, we can kill off a few more officers and have the German army in full retreat."
She then went to a hole in the wall where a fire escape was installed, "stay alive, soldier." And with that, she slid down the rustic ladder and disappeared from sight.
I went back down to the bottom floor to wake everyone up for dawn, but Vladimir was already up. "Getting cozy with the snipers?" he asked mischievously.
I stood with shock for a moment, "how did you know about that?"
He chuckled a little, "oh please, I knew she was up there from the first moment she spoke to you."
I pried a can of canned carrots open with a combat knife I took from a German lieutenant, "I doubt I'll ever see her again." I sighed.
Vladimir took a sip of his canteen, "well how would you like to?"
I glanced at him questionably, "what do you mean?"
"Dah, she's got a good plan, kid! If we knock out the remaining fascist officers, then all the privates and corporals will have no leadership, and will have to retreat or regroup outside of the city. They won't be restocked until winter, and after they taste a good snowfall like we get here, I wonder if the sun-huggers will know how to spit by then." An evil grin cracked it's way across Vlad's face.
"Then let's do it!" I said enthusiastically, "a finale to help end some of the carnage on our precious motherland!"
Vlad tossed his canteen to me, "Nyet, you just want to see your lady friend again." He started to laugh.
"Well every soldier needs to be reminded why he's fighting sometimes."
We laughed together till we cried, which woke most of the group up. Not all were happy about that, but they didn't mock us, it beats waking up to gunfire.
Vladimir explained the plan to everyone, how we were going to force the German command into a retreat. They were all up for it. Luckily, he didn't go into mentioning how we got this information, nor said anything about Natasha. We packed and were outside on the move before the sun had fully risen yet.
The Germans were stationed at a mining operation that was abandoned shortly after WWI started. They used the caves as defenses against air attacks, and the road that ran by there as a quick route through the gorge that ran the length of the city, then halfway to the coast. Easy place to bottleneck attackers. I mentioned this to Vladimir when we were planning our strike.
"That's why I want you on that ridge on the other end of the gorge, you'll provide us with sniper cover while we take the main highway."
I questioned his order, since I've only really shot one person. He assured me that I'd shoot better without pressure, and needed someone he trusted on the flanks to pick off machine gunners and mortar teams that will make taking the highway difficult.
I couldn't find Natasha anywhere and no other snipers that had arrived had ever noticed her before the tractor factory. But no point in wondering what I don't know, lives depended on me now.
The ridge where I shot from had an excellent perpendicular view to the entire battle. Vladimir was right about me being a much better shot when I wasn't being shot at. I killed 4 troops with five bullets.
Then I turned my focus to some retreating trucks, one of them carried prisoners. I would've thought nothing of it since our leader, Stalin, had ordered us to fight to the death. If we were captured, we were shown no mercy by our own forces. No one really liked this rule but it definitely did help some of us who had second thoughts about surrendering. I shot the driver, and the truck came to a screeching halt. German soldiers started forcing the prisoners to file out of the truck. One of them being Natasha! Maybe Vladimir could order the men not to kill her, but there was no time, our forces were nearly on top of the truck. I was about to scream to them not to hurt the prisoners, but Natasha suddenly fell. A bullet had gone through both her legs. She started to roll down the gorge wall directly across from me. I know not what adrenaline spiked through my body, but I leaped off my ridge and slid down the opposite gorge wall. There was a crack where both walls met that had at least a 500 foot drop to the bottom of the gorge.
Natasha beat me to the crack, I flipped from sliding on my butt to sliding on my stomach face first. I grabbed her wrist and nearly went down with her. I gained foothold by straddling both walls of the gorge and pulled her up.
"You?!" She said, half surprised, half excited.
"Dah. It's me. You're safe now."
"You didn't have to do that. I owe you." She said.
I started to stutter, "Nyet, you don't have... I mean... I don't think that..."
She wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me. I couldn't help but smile, "that'll do."
"Alexandr! Alex, are you alright?!" Vladimir called.
"Dah, I'm fine. Are you?" I wondered if he could hear me through all the gunfire and explosions going on.
"Grosky and I are fine, everyone got blown to tomato sauce by that last volley!" He yelled in panic before diving into a pre-dug trench.
I dove into a mortar hole, I figured the bombardiers operating the enemy artillery wouldn't bother to shoot the same place twice. I counted myself lucky for making these past three days, although I've barely fired a shot, I've been shot at nearly non-stop.
The German Nazis invaded our city barely a month ago. If the other front lines are like this one, then I simply can't believe how they haven't taken the city yet... or razed it. The latter was more likely to happen, I haven't seen a building with a roof in nearly a full day. Our rations were out, our ammo was nearly gone, (we're to the point of picking ammunition off of our fallen comrades before they have time to bleed.) and our air, armor, and artillery support was something of a joke.
"We have to take that hill!" Vladimir reminded me, "if we don't take that MG emplacement, we're all dead men!"
I was pretty sure the number of men still alive on this hill could be counted on my fingers, but I didn't dare turn my head to look. There were three rounds left in my Mosin Nagant, and if I was lucky, I could hit a German soldier running the length of the sandbag emplacement not a baseball's throw from where I was prone. I took up my rifle, aimed, and missed. The soldier and ducked under cover again. Then he jerked up with a hurl of blood coming from his chest. "Got 'im! You're clear to the sandbags!" Grosky yelled.
I ran with the nimble bit of might I had left up to the sandbag wall. Grosky tried to run for a tank trap about 20 feet from where I was standing. I turned to look to see what our next plan was when I saw Grosky shattered by a quick spray of machine gun fire. Without thinking, I used the diversion to take a shot off at the gunner. I took aim, the gunner followed example, then I shot first, and not a moment too soon. The gunner jerked backward into the bunker with a splash of blood from his head. The newfound adrenaline from my first kill of the war led me up the the bunker's window. I dove in, half-expecting to be shot, but no one noticed. There were three Germans in the bunker, two shooting out windows opposite of where I came in, and one gathering ammo from nearby crates. I quickly made sure my bayonet was on tight, then charged the man gathering ammo, as he would be the first one to notice me. I thrust my improvised pike into his back, then proceeded to do the same to the other two gunners. Suddenly the shooting stopped. Mortars could still be heard firing in the distance, but no nearby gunshot was heard. It was over.
I was congratulated by Vladimir for my first kill of the war, and assured me that I'd have a medal pinned to my jacket if there were any officers still alive. We started the invasion of this half of town with 1,200 men, after I captured the bunker and regrouped, heads totaled just over 100. We considered changing into German uniforms and infiltrating the rest of the occupied city, but it wouldn't matter at the rate both sides were getting killed. We rounded up as much ammo as we could for our issued rifles but we left the German machine guns in the bunker in case we had to retreat to a rally point.
At this point in the war, nothing was surprising. We knew we were losing, both sides knew the Germans didn't like what it was costing them to invade our motherland, and we knew we'd both have to retreat until more German forces from the french invasion arrived. Then it was only a matter of time.
Vladimir took command of the rest of our group. Not because of rank, but because he was the only one daring enough to take charge in this bloody meat grinder. We all agreed we needed rest, so after we found some canned food from German corpses (We practically lived off of our enemies' goods) Vladimir gave me the first watch, since I confessed I was still giddy from my first kills earlier. We hunkered down in a tractor factory, and I sat on the top floor, watching out of a window while perched on a three-legged table. I was there for about five minutes before I heard a voice behind me, "don't shoot."
I barely registered the request before I almost did shoot. There was someone in a Russian uniform, in the shadows behind me.
"Wish granted, now show yourself." I ordered, but I didn't expect a woman. A beautiful woman with black hair and crystal blue eyes. "Who are you?"
"Natasha Tradinkov, self-assigned sniper. And you?"
Most women I met in this war were merciless and filled with anger when talking to a soldier male. The conscription of women was not uncommon, that's not what caught me. What caught me was how she asked innocently, with a gentle voice, as if we really were fighting on the same side and not trying to prove men or women better fighters.
"Alaxandr Sokalov, self-assigned... soldier, I guess."
She smiled for a moment, then pointed to the window, "you know, if you wish to be shot you're going about it in a great way! Come over here and look through these blinds. A beginner sniper could hit you at that window."
I followed her instructions and gazed through a crack in the metal blinds in the window down from where I was sitting before. Her advice proved true. I could see just as much, just not at one time, and I felt much less watched.
"How long have you been sitting up here?" I asked while examining my new scout point.
"I got here about this time last night, I've killed 2 colonels, 6 lieutenants, 3 captains and I think I may have wounded a field marshal."
I gave her a long questioning glance, not believing what I was hearing. She smiled again, "I guess I'm a crack-shot!"
I forgot what happened in those next few minutes. It went from giving her an unbelieving glance, to noticing her crystal eyes, rounded ears, cloaked hair... she was truly gorgeous. "What?" She asked, snapping me back into reality.
"Nyet. It's nothing." I defended myself, then returned to my gaze out the window. It's entirely possible that we may both be dead in the next hour, there's no point in working on a crush. War was no time for love. But that didn't stop us from having a conversation, she asked question after question about my experiences in the war, what was going on beyond this block, how badly we're outnumbered, how I took over the German bunker. She stopped when the sun began to wink at us in the east.
"Well, I fear I must go."
I was enjoying the company of my friend too much to consider when we must part our ways, "wait, why?"
She slung her scoped Mosin over her shoulder, "our sniper teams have killed many officers, the remaining German troops are going to have orders to regroup in the mines to the east, and then redeployed in a counter-assault."
"How would you know that?" I asked.
She winked at me then smiled, "that's what I'd do! And besides, there's guaranteed business there. If I'm lucky, we can kill off a few more officers and have the German army in full retreat."
She then went to a hole in the wall where a fire escape was installed, "stay alive, soldier." And with that, she slid down the rustic ladder and disappeared from sight.
I went back down to the bottom floor to wake everyone up for dawn, but Vladimir was already up. "Getting cozy with the snipers?" he asked mischievously.
I stood with shock for a moment, "how did you know about that?"
He chuckled a little, "oh please, I knew she was up there from the first moment she spoke to you."
I pried a can of canned carrots open with a combat knife I took from a German lieutenant, "I doubt I'll ever see her again." I sighed.
Vladimir took a sip of his canteen, "well how would you like to?"
I glanced at him questionably, "what do you mean?"
"Dah, she's got a good plan, kid! If we knock out the remaining fascist officers, then all the privates and corporals will have no leadership, and will have to retreat or regroup outside of the city. They won't be restocked until winter, and after they taste a good snowfall like we get here, I wonder if the sun-huggers will know how to spit by then." An evil grin cracked it's way across Vlad's face.
"Then let's do it!" I said enthusiastically, "a finale to help end some of the carnage on our precious motherland!"
Vlad tossed his canteen to me, "Nyet, you just want to see your lady friend again." He started to laugh.
"Well every soldier needs to be reminded why he's fighting sometimes."
We laughed together till we cried, which woke most of the group up. Not all were happy about that, but they didn't mock us, it beats waking up to gunfire.
Vladimir explained the plan to everyone, how we were going to force the German command into a retreat. They were all up for it. Luckily, he didn't go into mentioning how we got this information, nor said anything about Natasha. We packed and were outside on the move before the sun had fully risen yet.
The Germans were stationed at a mining operation that was abandoned shortly after WWI started. They used the caves as defenses against air attacks, and the road that ran by there as a quick route through the gorge that ran the length of the city, then halfway to the coast. Easy place to bottleneck attackers. I mentioned this to Vladimir when we were planning our strike.
"That's why I want you on that ridge on the other end of the gorge, you'll provide us with sniper cover while we take the main highway."
I questioned his order, since I've only really shot one person. He assured me that I'd shoot better without pressure, and needed someone he trusted on the flanks to pick off machine gunners and mortar teams that will make taking the highway difficult.
I couldn't find Natasha anywhere and no other snipers that had arrived had ever noticed her before the tractor factory. But no point in wondering what I don't know, lives depended on me now.
The ridge where I shot from had an excellent perpendicular view to the entire battle. Vladimir was right about me being a much better shot when I wasn't being shot at. I killed 4 troops with five bullets.
Then I turned my focus to some retreating trucks, one of them carried prisoners. I would've thought nothing of it since our leader, Stalin, had ordered us to fight to the death. If we were captured, we were shown no mercy by our own forces. No one really liked this rule but it definitely did help some of us who had second thoughts about surrendering. I shot the driver, and the truck came to a screeching halt. German soldiers started forcing the prisoners to file out of the truck. One of them being Natasha! Maybe Vladimir could order the men not to kill her, but there was no time, our forces were nearly on top of the truck. I was about to scream to them not to hurt the prisoners, but Natasha suddenly fell. A bullet had gone through both her legs. She started to roll down the gorge wall directly across from me. I know not what adrenaline spiked through my body, but I leaped off my ridge and slid down the opposite gorge wall. There was a crack where both walls met that had at least a 500 foot drop to the bottom of the gorge.
Natasha beat me to the crack, I flipped from sliding on my butt to sliding on my stomach face first. I grabbed her wrist and nearly went down with her. I gained foothold by straddling both walls of the gorge and pulled her up.
"You?!" She said, half surprised, half excited.
"Dah. It's me. You're safe now."
"You didn't have to do that. I owe you." She said.
I started to stutter, "Nyet, you don't have... I mean... I don't think that..."
She wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me. I couldn't help but smile, "that'll do."
WE #5 CK
“We really shouldn’t be up here, you know. People might start to wonder after awhile.” I playfully swat my best friend’s arm. He, in return, flashes an amused look as we continue farther up the path.
“Oh, who will know?” he states confidently. “Besides, it’s not like Mrs. Swanson could catch up to us anyway.” I laugh, realizing the truth value of his words.
Our science teacher is an obese woman in her early forties, a few gray strands beginning to emerge from her chestnut-colored hair. Dark, impatient eyes peer over her spectacles, and her angry glare seems to pierce into the very souls of her helpless victims. Of course, Blake and I were quite familiar with her “Death Stare”, as we liked to call it. A troublemaker from day one, Blake Parker seemed to cause the hair on the back of Mrs. Swanson’s neck to stand on end. Getting into predicaments was first nature to him, and as a mischievous female, I was frequently dragged into these situations as well. But scheming along with this boy I had grown very close to and recounting the stories that resulted from our mishaps always seemed worth it to me.
Today just so happens to be the day of our science class’s annual field trip to a National Park, and after about twenty minutes of listening to Mrs. Swanson’s lecture on the asexual reproduction on plants, we decided to slip away, leaving behind a group of nerds to analyze her thoughts. We headed off towards the woods and now were hiking up a stony-covered incline as a cool autumn breeze passed us by.
It was beautiful. The colors of the leaves were just beginning to emerge, fiery tones of red, orange, and yellow flickering in the wind. Occasionally, we would pass by an azure colored stream or a silvery lake, glistening in the sun. In the distance, snow-capped mountains ascended to towering heights above. Fluffy white puffballs floated in the atmosphere above. The loveliness of it all stole my breath away.
Beside me, Blake strides the incline we are now ascending. His tall frame easily surpasses my mere 5’4” and above me, a pair of bright green eyes gleam in the sunlight. Dark chocolate waves of hair mount his head contrasted to my own curly auburn locks. My eyes wander towards him and he delivers a warm smile in return.
“So what happened with you and Eric, Liza?” he quips. I sigh, “it just…never worked out I guess.” I scour my brain for words, but nothing appropriate seems to come. “We were too different. And he wanted me to be something I wasn’t, so I ended it.” He searches my face seriously for a moment, then shifts his eyes forward again. “Yeah. You can do better than that guy anyways. He didn’t deserve someone like you.” The last word of his sentence assumes a soft tone, and a mysterious silence thickens over the two of us as we continue to travel on.
A few minutes later, his deep voice presides over the stillness, and he speaks.
“Liza,” he glances at me hesitantly.
“Yes?” I wonder at his sudden nervousness because never, in all my years of friendship with Blake, have I ever heard anything short of confidence exuding from him. “We’ve been close for a long time now, and…” he stops.
“Go on,” I gently urge. What’s this about? I think.
“I’d kinda like to be more than friends. Liza, I love you.”
Time ticks on, but no words come. Blake has feelings for me? How long has this been going on? I’ve never thought of my best friend this way, but that doesn’t mean I had ruled out a relationship. I just didn’t know how to respond.
Suddenly, we approach something resembling a ravine ravaging below, but crossing over it is no big feat. Blake places one foot on the other side, his right foot remaining next to my own.
Our science teacher is an obese woman in her early forties, a few gray strands beginning to emerge from her chestnut-colored hair. Dark, impatient eyes peer over her spectacles, and her angry glare seems to pierce into the very souls of her helpless victims. Of course, Blake and I were quite familiar with her “Death Stare”, as we liked to call it. A troublemaker from day one, Blake Parker seemed to cause the hair on the back of Mrs. Swanson’s neck to stand on end. Getting into predicaments was first nature to him, and as a mischievous female, I was frequently dragged into these situations as well. But scheming along with this boy I had grown very close to and recounting the stories that resulted from our mishaps always seemed worth it to me.
Today just so happens to be the day of our science class’s annual field trip to a National Park, and after about twenty minutes of listening to Mrs. Swanson’s lecture on the asexual reproduction on plants, we decided to slip away, leaving behind a group of nerds to analyze her thoughts. We headed off towards the woods and now were hiking up a stony-covered incline as a cool autumn breeze passed us by.
It was beautiful. The colors of the leaves were just beginning to emerge, fiery tones of red, orange, and yellow flickering in the wind. Occasionally, we would pass by an azure colored stream or a silvery lake, glistening in the sun. In the distance, snow-capped mountains ascended to towering heights above. Fluffy white puffballs floated in the atmosphere above. The loveliness of it all stole my breath away.
Beside me, Blake strides the incline we are now ascending. His tall frame easily surpasses my mere 5’4” and above me, a pair of bright green eyes gleam in the sunlight. Dark chocolate waves of hair mount his head contrasted to my own curly auburn locks. My eyes wander towards him and he delivers a warm smile in return.
“So what happened with you and Eric, Liza?” he quips. I sigh, “it just…never worked out I guess.” I scour my brain for words, but nothing appropriate seems to come. “We were too different. And he wanted me to be something I wasn’t, so I ended it.” He searches my face seriously for a moment, then shifts his eyes forward again. “Yeah. You can do better than that guy anyways. He didn’t deserve someone like you.” The last word of his sentence assumes a soft tone, and a mysterious silence thickens over the two of us as we continue to travel on.
A few minutes later, his deep voice presides over the stillness, and he speaks.
“Liza,” he glances at me hesitantly.
“Yes?” I wonder at his sudden nervousness because never, in all my years of friendship with Blake, have I ever heard anything short of confidence exuding from him. “We’ve been close for a long time now, and…” he stops.
“Go on,” I gently urge. What’s this about? I think.
“I’d kinda like to be more than friends. Liza, I love you.”
Time ticks on, but no words come. Blake has feelings for me? How long has this been going on? I’ve never thought of my best friend this way, but that doesn’t mean I had ruled out a relationship. I just didn’t know how to respond.
Suddenly, we approach something resembling a ravine ravaging below, but crossing over it is no big feat. Blake places one foot on the other side, his right foot remaining next to my own.
“Do you trust me?” he asks.
“Of course,” I say without question.
With a swooping motion, he lifts my body from its hold on the earth and draws me closer to his chest. Suspended in the air, I gaze at him, searching his face for some sort of answer to my questions. My chocolate eyes sink into his emerald ones, and it’s then that I realize that perhaps this boy is the one I have been seeking out my whole life. His quiet strength reels me in and I am held captive in his presence. Then, before I have time to react, he leans towards me, planting a kiss on my lips. It’s soft and the warmth seeps into me from his skin. Then he withdraws to catch my reaction. I smile, then, rising up on my tip toes, kiss him back. I never thought Blake Parker would be the boy I’d share my first kiss with, but now I don’t question it. I wouldn’t have had it any other way. Maybe it was meant to be this way all along.
Weekly Expressions #5 ~ BK
(Author’s note -- I had come up with my basic plot for this but still didn’t have reasons why. Then I read my daily email from chabad.org with my ‘Today in Jewish History” email and it all just fell together! Hope you enjoy!)
Today in Jewish History
Today is: Shabbat, Cheshvan 15, 5774 · October 19, 2013
• Kristallnacht (1938)
On this night in 1938 and continuing into the next day -- November 9 on the secular calendar -- the Nazis coordinated vicious pogroms against the Jewish community of Germany. Encouraged by their leaders, rioters attacked and beat Jewish residents, burned and destroyed 267 synagogues, vandalized 7,500 Jewish businesses, and ransacked countless Jewish cemeteries, hospitals, schools, and homes, while police and firefighters stood by. Ninety-one Jews were killed and 20,000 others were deported to concentration camps.
These pogroms, which collectively came to be known as Kristallnacht (“night of broken glass,” referring to the thousands of windows that were broken) were a turning point after which Nazi anti-Jewish policy intensified.
Rumors were intensifying. Gerhard’s father hit his fork on plate with so much force, Gerhard thought it would break. Anger boiled inside his father’s spirit and it was spilling over into his actions. His mother sat opposite of his father, quietly eating her meal. She was more peaceful than his father but he knew fear had gripped her soul just as it had gripped his and his father’s. Gerhard could not take the silence any longer. He threw his fork down, unable to to hold his tongue any longer. His mother jumped at the sound of his fork hitting the table. His father looked up, annoyed at the interruption.
“We should go to America now, while we still can.”
His mother’s eyes widened and she quickly went back to her meal. His father chose to ignore his remark.
“Father?” Gerhard insisted.
“You know my answer. It would be wise to drop it now while you still can.” He took another bite of his potatoes and washed it down with water.
“And it would be wise for us to leave now as well! Or are you that ignorant of what is going on out there?” Gerhard’s tone rose as he pointed to the front door.
His father curled his fists together as he looked up with rage. “What did you call me?” He growled as he stood to his feet.
His mother hid her face with her hand.
They had had this conversation only once before. Gerhard had learned about America in school and ever since then, it had latched onto his heart. But his parents, his father per say, were quite against the thought of leaving all they had. A stable home and work. To go to a new country, learn a new language and start from nothing. Perhaps it was Gerhard’s youth that made this desire so bold.
Gerhard stood to his feet, matching his father’s height. “I am tired of hiding my fear! The German’s hate us, you know it as well as I. It is only a matter of time before they finally act on that hatred.”
“WE are German!” His father beat his chest. “They would not hurt their own.”
“No, we are Jews. And that now automatically sets us aside from our nationality.”
“Those are campfire stories, son. Conspiracy theories that we will never see play out. Now sit down!” He spat out those last words.
Gerhard knew he had gone too far with this little outburst. He was almost eighteen. Almost old enough to make his own choices. Three months was too long to wait.
He obeyed and sat down, still unable to eat.
Dinner was cleaned up and Gerhard excused himself to his room. He lay on his bed, arms behind his head, unable to sleep. Just think.
A tap at his window brought him from his thoughts. He swung his legs over the side of his bed and knelt beside the window. He smiled as he saw Marta’s smiling face. He quietly opened the window and kissed her cheek.
“Hello, Marta.” He whispered.
“Hello, Gerhard Braus.” She giggled.
“What do I owe this most unexpected visit?”
She shrugged her shoulders. “Papa is talking about the German’s again and how they want to send us away.” Her father was the one who filled his head with these so called “conspiracy theories”.
Her smile faded and a sadness filled her face. “Papa is thinking about leaving Germany.”
“What?” He nearly yelled it and quickly looked over his shoulder. No sound came from outside his door. His parents were not supportive of his relationship with Marta, unlike her parents who loved to have him over. “You cannot leave.”
“I do not want to but if Papa says we leave then that is what I must do. Oh, Gerhard!” She wrapped her arms around his neck.
The emotions of the moment welled up in his eyes but he would not let one tear fall. He had to be strong.
“I am not eightteen yet, Marta. I...I just cannot...Ugh.”He released her and sat back on his floor. Frustration, anger and fear all boiled into one emotion raged inside him. He loved Marta. He spent his nights wondering how he would propose to her, how he would ask her father for her hand. Where he would go to school so that he could support her. How they could spend the rest of their lives together and now, a single fear was tearing them apart.
“Your father?” She asked.
“Still adamant that we are not to leave. Is there anyway you would wait three months tilI can join?”
She shook her head. “No, Papa is already packing up our home. Only enough to travel. Tomorrow he is going to sell the rest to help with our travel tickets. America here we come!” She tried to sound enthusiastic about leaving. He knew that deep down in her heart she was more excited than she could show in this sorrowful moment. He nodded, understanding.
“Well, I will just join you as soon as I possibly can.”
The next couple weeks dragged on and on. Gerhard had sold his favorite jacket in order to pay for his travel papers. He wanted to be completely prepared to leave as soon as he turned eighteen. Tomorrow was the day Marta and her family were leaving and his heart felt like it was breaking. He was so fearful that something would happen between now and when he was able to leave.
After an hour of laying in bed considering all the worst outcomes, sleep finally came to him. Noises of chaos intruded his sleep and he felt himself being shaken awake. He opened his eyes and was startled. His father was shaking him. Blood ran down the side of his father’s head.
“Get up, boy!” He yelled. He picked Gerhard up by his shoulders. “You were right. I am sorry I was such a blind fool. You must leave. Take this.” He shoved a small bag into Gerhard’s hand. “Be careful.” He kissed Gerhard’s forehead.
The sound of fists beating against their front door and rocks flying and shattering the windows.
He heard his mother shriek after the door was broken down. His father ran into the other room. Gerhard began to climb out of his window. Fear seized him but adrenaline coursed through his body. As he listened to his father fight intruders, Gerhard forced himself out the window. He reached back in and grabbed his secret stash of money and travel papers out from under his pillow.
He ran as fast as he could .He did not dare to stop. He ran and ran until he had reached Marta’s home. He was too late. He walked in the already broken down door. Shards of glass littered the rooms. He ran through her home, mortified by the possibility that something tragic lay in waiting for him in the next room. But finally he had run through the entire home and no one was to be found. In a way, he was extremely thankful. The Germans had done a number of damages to the home. What would they have done if Marta and her family were there? He thought back to his mother’s screams as he was escaping out his window.
He walked back into Marta’s room and sank on her bed. What would he do now? Where would he go? She was all he had left.
He laid his head on her pillow feeling hopeless. His head fell on something. He reached his hand back and pulled a folded piece of paper away. He opened it and hope filled his heart.
Gerhard,
I do hope you read this. My father heard about the attack and quickly made us leave. We are headed to the train station. I do hope you see this and follow. I do not want to lose you!
I love you!
Love,
Marta
P.S. Please find me!
Gerhard stuffed the note into his pocket and ran out the door. He ran past a bicycle and stopped. That would be faster than running by foot.
He made it to the train station within minutes. He ran up the steps after abandoning the bicycle on the street. The station was packed with bodies. Everyone was terrified and confused. He ran up the steps to the top level of the station and stopped short before the hallway. He could hear Officer’s speaking and their words sent a chill down Gerhard’s spine.
No Jew was leaving this building alive. He continued up the steps to face the German. He wasn’t thinking. He was acting on impulse.
The guard turned around and eyed him suspiciously. The man behind him turned around and left. His name read Albrecht. It was german enough. He looked around and took the officer by the arm and led him deeper into the dark hallway. The man was questioning him but he ignored him. He opened the nearest door and found a bathroom. He pushed the German in and bashed his head against the wall.
He fell to the floor unconscious. Gerhard had stripped the officer down and replaced his clothes with the german uniform. He was now Gerhard Albrecht. He prayed this plan would work. He needed to live if he was to find her and he needed to get her out alive as well. He made sure he looked alright before he walked out of the hallway. He ran to the balcony and scanned the large crowd of people.
For a minute he thought it was hopeless. He would never find her.
And then he saw her! Off to the side of the room, sheltered against the wall by her father and mother. He ran down the steps two by two and pushed his way through the crowd.
“MARTA!” He yelled out over the noise.
He finally made it next to her father who looked down on him and relief swept over his face. He patted him on the back as he stepped aside. Gerhard rushed into Marta’s embrace. He could feel her silent sobs shake her body. He buried his face into her neck, taking in the sweet aroma of her hair. He could never be parted from her.
He felt her father’s hand on his shoulder .He faced him. A tear fell down the intimidating man’s face. “Get her out of here, Gerhard. Get her out of Germany. Take her to America.” He handed Gerhard his wallet and pulled Marta into one last embrace. Marta hugged her mother as they both sobbed uncontrollably. Both knew this would be the last they would see of one another.
Regrettably, Gerhard knew they had to leave. He hugged her parents goodbye and pulled her away through the crowd.
They made it to the front door, guarded by several military men. They eyed his uniform suspiciously as they looked from him to Marta.
“Who is she?” One asked.
“I am Gerhard Albrecht, and this is my wife, Marta.”
“Why are you here?”
“In all the chaos of the night she went to check on her parents who are old and senile. They had fled their home. She thought they would be here but we have yet to find them.”
They appeared to have bought his story. “Hurry up. You don’t want to be caught in here in the next few minutes.” Gerhard thanked them and quickly pulled her away. They ran across the street and didn’t stop running until he heard the first shot. He immediately dropped to his knees and pulled her down. He wrapped his arms around her head and covered her ears.
He wanted to shield her from the sound of the continuing shots that echoed in the night sky. Her body shook violently from her wails that were drowned out from the shots.
He hoped that she could not hear the screams that drifted from the train station and reached his ears.
Finally the sounds stopped and left an eerie silence like a gaping hole in his heart. He let her calm down before picking her back up and pulling her away.
~~
The sun was beginning to peek through the mountains as they climbed through. A german officer discovered Gerhard’s true identity. Gerhard sighed in relief as the officer looked the other way and gave them advice. It would be easier to travel through the small mountain pass beside their town. No german patrols would find them out. And so far, his words spoke true. Morning was now here and both he and Marta were exhausted, mentally and physically. He didn’t even want to think about the hunger that felt like it was tearing apart his stomach. It would take a long while for both of them to recover from last night.
The pass was becoming rocky, with huge boulders lying about. He stopped short and fell on his behind as a foot wide gaping hole was before them. Marta gasped as she held on to his arm tightly. He stood back up and quickly placed his other foot on the other side, standing above the hole. He took Marta in his arms and in that exact moment the sunrise beamed through the cracks of the mountains. For the moment, Marta and Gerhard were motionless, taking in the breathtaking colors of the sunrise. The beauty of the moment distracted them from the sorrow that had plagued their hearts all night long. Every aching step now washed away in the palette of color.
He looked down at her smiling face and could not help but smile back. He kissed her then.
The kiss was more amazing and passionate than he had ever dreamed it would be. He never would have dreamed his first kiss would be like this. But he never dreamed it would be as beautiful as this moment.
Hope filled his heart. They would make it safely through the pass and with the combined money from his and Marta’s fathers, they would make it to America and start fresh. They would escape this evil.
They would live.
Praise Yahweh for his unending mercy!
WE #5 TM Margot's Orders
Okay, I have a disclaimer. It is true what they say—too much
Wikipedia can be a dangerous thing. Parts of the below short story are based on
actual accounts of events during World War I. However I have taken artistic
license with certain names—except for General Nivelle. He was a real person,
and he made the real mistakes I show here, according to what I’ve read. And
just as a side note, France had lost 20% of it’s entire young male population
to this war—far higher a percentage than any other allied country. Their war
was the longest fought, and the most devastating to their country. *Keep in
mind, I am not a historian, so forgive me my inconsistencies.
Margot's Orders
I held the
flimsy telegraph paper— my orders—in my shaking, cold hands. The men around me
were quiet, waiting with terrible patience. They knew that every minute that
ticked by was another minute they weren’t out of the trench and stumbling
across the killing field. If I had any mercy for them, I would take all day to
read the order over, perhaps even into dinner time.
But the NCO
(non-commissioned officer) would be by soon, and if we were all still
entrenched, there would be blood shed of another sort. Swallowing back bile, I
stared at the smudged ink. Was there honor in such a death? We would become
part of the countless, the buried nameless at the bottom of a ditch. To listen
to the lunatics on the hill—the faceless names that refused to look us in the
eye before dealing out our final instruction—felt like insanity. True insanity
of the suicidal kind.
General
Nivelle’s signature on the bottom drew my eye. It was the hand writing of a
murderer. It was strange to know this about him while staring at such a clear
and personal sign of his existence. The curl in the ‘N’, a flourish that was
written in the blood of countless dead poilu*. It tried to be whimsical. I knew
it was the pen stroke of a madman.
“What does
it say, Captain? Rain’s starting to fill my boots standing here…”
Their fate
and mine, hand-in-hand. Perhaps they were not so patient to know whether, by
the end of this mud and blood day, they would be here in this hell or in the
arms of their creator.
But none of
them, not one of them, not even General Nivelle, knew about Margot.
“You know
what it says, Dadure.”
They
answered me with silence. They wanted to be certain—after all, I was delivering
a death sentence to most of them. Hat brims made dark shadows of their faces as
they turned to each other, whispering in the dark rain.
“It says
the same thing it said yesterday. The same orders that the 13th
Battalion received three nights before.”
Muttering
could be heard through the rain now, through the squelch of boots in mud,
through the muted sound of artillery going off over the hill to our West.
Germany would never let us sleep, their war beast ever hungry for French
cuisine.
Margot
would hate it here, I thought. She would scrunch her nose up at the smell of
150 unwashed French soldiers, made after wallowing in the mud and blood and
waste of our trenches for weeks. Her gloved hands would stay firmly clasped in
front of her; polite but unwilling to touch anything. Her heart would strain in
her chest to see such despair on all the faces. Her stomach would turn over to
see the bodies laying on the east-facing side of the trench, their blood
mingling with the rain to run in rivulets down to our feet. Margot would turn
her blue eyes to me, tear-filled, her sunset lips would quiver, all of her
being would beg me to take her away from this place without saying a word.
The men
were now staring at me. Not so tender as a young woman coasting on a promise of
marriage after the desecration of the enemy had been achieved, no. But they
were begging something of me just the same.
My own
answer was burning now in the back of my mind. When a man’s choices are Death
or Death… the answer becomes increasingly clear. I had come to this service in
strength and loyalty and determination. I had come convinced that my country
was worth protecting, that the enemy would be squashed beneath our shiny boots,
that Germany would be limping back home, licking its wounds within a month,
maybe two or three at the most. Their vision of European dominance was
ludicrous, their attitude one of absurdity.
That had
been three years ago. War has a way of changing a man’s perspective. Something
in me had broken long ago, and now, looking at the men before me, I knew they
had broken, too. Death or Death? The third choice, the hidden choice—shameful,
disloyal, unspoken—was my only salvation.
“We are
faced with a decision. I speak to you now not as your commanding officer, but
as your brother in arms. Man to men. You have all heard the rumors by now, of
Cauldere’s troupe—” A voice bounced back at me through the shadows, strain and
panic edging his words.
“They were
all shot, monsieur! Every last one—at least if we go against the Germans,
there’s a chance some of us—”
“Yes, they
didn’t have the advantage of our position! If we can just put the river to our
backs—”
“Haven’t
you all seen the empty trenches, the way they’ve dug in so far in the field?
They were expecting us! And if they know we’re coming…”
Back and
forth the men voiced their views, their fears, trying desperately to grasp at
some reason in a situation devoid of all reasoning. General Nivelle had been
heard talking about our maneuvers, our positioning, at a brothel pub. The
entire Western Front had been given up by a vain psychotic’s drunken boasting.
It was such a simple, stupid thing, that a German spy had overheard and
reported back to his commander the rantings of an inebriated blow-hard. Why did
they not think that the outburst had been a ruse? A poorly disguised decoy? A
diversion, not even well hidden, to pull troops to the north? They must have
wondered in some warm, dry Belgium control room. Still, to disregard the news
altogether…
Simple.
Stupid. And effective. The Germans had taken advantage of the information, had
taken the chance that this was somehow a real leak in classified information,
and just that simply, just that stupidly, thousands of loyal French infantrymen
had perished. They ran out into the fields of Aisne, and never, ever came back.
Margot
would not approve of my indignant anger at the Germans. To hate them, yes, but
to throw my life and the lives of my men at their feet, to throw myself in
front of their artillery fire? All because a masochistic General refused –
quelle surprise!—to admit that he had sold out his information for a bottle of
champagne and a whore! Margot had given me her own set of instructions that day
on the train platform. She had whispered against my neck upon our final
embrace, her breath warm, causing the hair there to stand on end. Her words had
burned into my mind.
“Sometimes
it is just as brave to know when to stop. Come back to me, mon amour, any way
that you dare.”
I knew in
my heart it was time to head her words.
“Listen...”
Their din had risen, their panic evident. Caught between the rock of Gibraltar
and a hard place, they squirmed. “Écouter!”
The
squabbling came to a halt.
“If we are
caught, I will place the blame on myself. This trench leads north, we can
follow the river back to Varanesse, and from there, we will make our way back—”
“—Way back
to where, monsieur Captain? Wherever we will go, we will be captured,
prosecuted, perhaps shot!”
There was a
small amount of agreement, but the majority of the men could see the blaze of
hope in my plans. The Americans would soon arrive, fresh and arrogant and
thirsty for German blood. They had finally heard the call, had decided to move
with the allies, and would take over the Front. We had put in our time. We had
seen too much, had asked too much of ourselves, surrendered too much of our
souls.
General
Nivelle was careless as a child with a doll, tossing our lives about as reward
for the hell we had survived. I was no longer interested in entertaining such a
spoiled, insolent child. Margot was waiting for me, and we would have a child
of our own.
“I am done.
Those that are also finished with this fiasco of command are welcome to join me.
Those that stay…I commend your loyalty, though I may doubt your sound judgment.
We leave tonight. Those that are willing to go with me, meet here in one hour,
and pack lightly.”
Almost all
of them came back. I was proud of their resilience, and their ability to see
hope beyond all hope lost. I would make it my new dedication, to see them all
back behind the lines, back to their villages and families, back in the arms of
those they loved. Out of the hands of the military leaders that did not even
care to know our names or faces.
As for
myself, I would be back with my Margot, as per her personal orders.
* ‘poilu’ is a nickname given to the French infantrymen
during World War I, meaning ‘The bearded ones’, referring to the majority of
the infantry soldiers at the time coming from villages and family settings.
Thursday, October 17, 2013
WE #4 MC
Sooo sorry this is late, guys! School has been bogging me down big-time! Also, I originally wrote another one, but I hated it, so I started over. But here it is:) This is an Alice in Wonderland story of sorts:)
Allie was
listening to her sister drone on and on about the parts of speech in the
English language. She kept dozing off or getting distracted by the beautiful
nature around her. A flower here, a butterfly there, the big cherry tree they
were sitting under.
A cherry fell beside her from the
tree and she picked it up and examined it. She liked the way the sunlight
glinted off it at just the right angle, giving it a warm glow.
“Are you listening?” her sister
snapped.
Allie jerked out of her thoughts. “Yes,
Tracy.”
“What did I just say?”
Allie was silent for a moment,
trying to come up with an intelligent response. “You said – “
“Forget it.” Tracy closed the school
book and stood up.
Allie was going to protest, but
decided against it. After all, she really wasn’t listening.
Tracy headed inside the cottage
house, leaving Allie to herself.
Was it possible? Could she have just
made her sister so exasperated that she cancelled lessons for the day?
Allie decided not to stick around to
find out otherwise and popped the cherry in her mouth as she stood up and
stretched. She headed off down the property and made way for the river.
Once there, she sat on the bank of
the river and let out a sigh of contentment as she watched the small river rush
by. The birds chirped their happy songs in the surrounding trees, the flowers
were in full bloom, and the smell of fresh grass filled Allie’s nose.
She lied down and closed her eyes,
taking in everything with just her ears. It was so peaceful. She began to feel
drowsy…so sleepy…so…
Her eyes flew open as she heard a
twig snap close by. She sat up and looked around. Had Tracy come looking for
her? She hoped that wasn’t the case.
Another twig snapped, closer this
time. Allie thought she heard big feet thumping on the ground. Almost like…
A hare appeared out of the trees,
looking at Allie curiously. Allie stared back, surprised at what she saw.
The rabbit was standing on its back
legs and wore a small white coat with a little gold chain attached to it. Allie
had never seen a rabbit wear a coat, but the white did go nicely with its gray
fur.
To her astonishment, the hare
reached up to the little gold chain with its big paw and pulled out a pocket
watch. It opened its mouth and said, “Late! Oh, so very late!”
It stuffed the watch back in the
pocket and ran right past her on its hind legs.
Allie jumped to her feet and began
to run after the rabbit. She didn’t know why, but she had to follow it, had to
know what on earth a gray rabbit with a coat and pocket watch could possibly be
late for.
“Wait!” she called after it. “Wait
for me!”
The hare paid her no mind and
continued to run, shouting every so often, “Late! Oh, so terribly late!”
Allie no longer recognized her
surroundings. She had no idea where she was, but she continued to run anyway.
“Wait!” she called again.
Suddenly, she tripped and was
falling down a big hole in the ground. She continued to fall for what seemed
like a lifetime.
As she fell, pieces of black and
white objects floated around her. What were those? A piece came close to her
and she saw that a black Roman numeral 2 was on it. A little ways off, a black
Roman numeral 10 was on another piece. A long, thin black stick floated around
followed by a shorter one.
What was all this? And then it
dawned on her.
A clock. These were pieces of a
clock.
Down she went, further and further,
until at long last the bottom was in view. She began to panic as she realized
she was headed straight for a huge lake of dark water. Of all things she had
learned over the years, swimming was not one of them.
She splashed into the icy cold water
and thrashed around, trying to keep above the surface. It was no use. The water
was pulling her down…down…she couldn’t breathe….couldn’t…
Suddenly, a staircase appeared in
front of her. She thrashed her way to it and used it to pull herself to the top
of the water. She gasped and coughed up the water from her lungs.
When she had recovered, she stood up
and saw that she was in some sort of cavern. An enormous clock stood in front
of her. Pieces of it were missing and she guessed that that was what she saw on
the way down. As she watched, more pieces groaned and creaked and blew away in
the wind.
Suddenly, a spine-chilling laugh
echoed against the cavern walls. A tall woman in a black robe appeared above
the clock.
“Time,” she said. Despite her evil
appearance, her voice was smooth and rich as honey.
Allie didn’t know what to make of
this, so she just stood silently.
“A priceless thing in the human
world,” she continued. “You humans put so much value on it. There is lots of
it, but you can never seem to have enough.”
The evil woman picked off a piece of
the clock and rolled it over in her slender fingers. “What is better than a
world without time? A world where humans don’t have to worry about not having
enough?”
Allie’s mouth felt like it was
filled with cotton, but she managed to get one word out. “Chaos.”
The woman laughed again, that same
icy laugh that sent shivers down Allie’s spine.
“Oh no, dear child. Once time is
gone, you won’t have to worry about it anymore.” She let the piece of clock she
was holding in her hands blow away with the wind.
“Time is running out.” The woman
laughed again and disappeared.
Allie snapped awake and sat up,
breathing hard. The river calmly coursed by, the birds sang their lovely songs.
A dream.
Allie’s breathing returned to normal
as she realized it was all just a dream.
“There you are!” Tracy exclaimed as
she appeared behind Allie. “I was beginning to think you had gotten lazy and
disappeared on me.”
“No, Tracy,” Allie replied in a bit
of a daze.
“Well, come on then! We have lessons
to attend to!” Tracy helped her little sister up and began to walk back toward
the house.
Allie followed, but stopped dead in
her tracks when she heard the spine-chilling laugh. A tall woman in a black
robe appeared from behind a tree.
Tracy turned and noticed Allie had
stopped. “What are you doing, silly girl? Daydreaming again?”
“Do you see that?” Allie asked.
“See what?”
“That woman.”
“What woman?”
Allie pointed to the tree, but the
woman had disappeared. Tracy looked and shook her head. “I don’t see anything.
It’s probably just your wild imagination.”
For the sake of humankind, Allie
sure hoped so.
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