It had been a long time, Ludwig thought, looking at the town before him. He had not been in the country of Italy for a long while, for the Sargent, who had been highly respected, had moved onto better targets. He had travelled all over Europe, and even into the icy tundra of Russia. He had seen London in the fall time, its streets covered lined with red, yellow, and orange leaved trees. He had been there for a special operations mission. He had seen Poland in the spring, its many flowers abloom as the country of Germany invaded and took over. But no place had attracted him more than the country of Italy. It had lush, rolling hills of green in the summer, with flowers and fruited trees in the meadows as well as in the farmland that surrounded the outskirts of the towns. In the wintertime, it had crisp white snow lining the ground, and the air smelled warmly of the sweet breads that the townspeople baked around that time of year. The townspeople themselves were friendly, which was much relief to Ludwig. He was already under a lot of stress from the occupations he had participated so heartily in. not once did he have to use force, with the exception of the occasional drunk. There had been rumors from surrounding allies that there was an Italian resistance starting up. That was why he had been stationed there. But those rumors quickly died down as the bombings of the villages had started. Ludwig's brother had helped in most of them, for he was a commander for the air forces. His name was gilbert, and he was very skilled in his work. However, he had gone home to the small village in which Ludwig had grown up in, half raised by his grandfather, and half raised by Gilbert. The base he had been staying on, only a few miles away from where Ludwig was, had suffered multiple attacks from the rebellion. His older brother had been caught in the explosion of a grenade, and had been discharge due to the fact that half his body was covered in burns. For a moment Ludwig stood, remembering old memories he had of his beloved brother. He remembered going to the market in the daytime, riding atop his large shoulders. Gilbert had always taken his younger sibling to taste the savory cheeses the stands sold, or the sweet German pastries he adored so much. He remembered seeing the puppet makers, who came to the market every Wednesday. The two would stay to watch as the man made the little wooden boy dance around, pulling on the strings that were attached to a wooden board. It fascinated little Ludwig, although, nothing amused him more than Captain Helmen's dogs. Every Saturday, he would bring in four big black labs, which were used to search for missing soldiers. They were always playful, and the Captain let Ludwig pet their soft, shiny fur. Ludwig would sit with the other little boys, listening to the stories of glory in the war. He knew from that day that he wanted to fight in the German army. He had gone into the war at the early age of 17. He was already bigger than his brother, who was toned, yet not as built as Ludwig was. Gilbert was an albino; he had short, white hair and pale white skin with blood red eyes. Ludwig, however, was the depiction of the Aryan race. He was large and muscular, with shiny blond hair and crystal blue eyes. He had never complained of where he was stationed, for it was a nice town to be in. He took everything seriously, unlike his team, which flirted with all of the girls and drank. It bothered Ludwig, but, most of the time, he went about his business, never questioning and always following the rules given to him by his commander.
Then again, rules are meant to be broken.