A/N: Since the vast majority of you haven't read Soldier Boys, here's a short summery. This is a historical fiction novel based in World War II. Dieter is a young Nazi. Schaefer is an older Nazi who looks after Dieter on the battlefield. Spencer is a young American Soldier. In the book, Spencer and Dieter barely meet before Spence gets killed, but that's why this is called an alternate ending.
Disclaimer- If I owned the story, this would be the ending.
Dieter was dying. He knew this because the red-hot pain from the two bullets, that had consumed his mind a short time ago now seemed so distant. He also knew it because the blood that flowed down from his thigh and chest made a puddle of red on the muddy, trampled snow. He was too numb to be cold, but he could feel every bit of heat that oozed out of his body through the wounds and trickled to the frozen ground. Now all he wanted was Schaefer. Part of Dieter needed him badly; Schaefer would set things right. But the other part was telling him that Schaefer wasn't coming. He was fated to die alone in the dark.
He was lying on his back on the muddy snow, staring upwards toward the bare sky. He wished that the clouds weren't there so he could see the moon and stars. They could have comforted him. The empty sky intensified the feeling of being alone until it was almost unbearable. But no-Schaefer would come; He had always come before.
A soft whisper shattered the silence. "Don't get jumpy now. I'm coming to help you." The voice was speaking English, a language that Dieter had been required to learn in Hitler Youth. "Help you. Only help you. I won't hurt you."
"Schaefer?" Dieter whispered back. But that couldn't be. Why would Schaefer be speaking English? And the voice sounded as of it belonged to a boy like him.
"No. American. But I'll help you." The shadow drew closer. "I'll help you if I can."
It wasn't until the boy had knelt beside him that Dieter grasped the significance of what he had said. Fear welled in him, and he tried to push the other boy away. This was one of the Americans. This was one of the soldiers he had been shooting at just this morning. This was a man he had been taught to despise from his cradle.
But he wasn't a man. He was a boy.
"I just wasn't to help you." the boy said again, this time in a calming tone. Then, when he realized that Dieter was still frightened, he started singing. "O little town of Bethlehem, how still we see thee lie. Above thy deep and dreamless sleep, the silent stars go by."
Dieter started to relax. For some reason, the familiar melody calmed his fears and gave him hope. He was too tired to translate it into German, but the notes penetrated into his mind all the same. Dieter fell into a drifting half-sleep, lulled by the young boy, still humming the pretty tune as he inspected him. By the time the boy had started to try to stop the bleeding, Dieter had slipped into unconsciousness.