There were no birds. The atmosphere was completely silent. Dirt shook as expolsions went off in the distance, rattling the earth. Heavy black boots crunched rubble as they trudged through the debris of a small villiage in the northern parts of France. A group of four soldiers wandered through the street, looking for civilians and kicking pebbles. Large buildings seemed to be cut in half, crumbling to the ground. A man with icey blue eyes and blonde hair, packed under his helmet, plunged his pale and cold hands into the thick wool pockets of his coat. Long fingers gripped a metal tin, and opened the case. The man felt around for a cigarete packed away in the case. He sighed deeply when he realised he only had one left. He brought the tip to his chapped lips, and lit the end with his spare lighter. Warmth spread through his chest as nicotine traveled down his lungs. With a heavy breath, he blew a cloud of smoke above his sky was grey with smoke and polluted with dust. The ground rumbled as a heavy tank swept through the street ahead of the group of soldiers. Men shouted and screamed far in the distance. At this point in the war, it was hard to tell if the screams came from the enemy, or one of their own. The man with blonde hair inhaled deeply again, loving the warmth of the smoke. If he were to die, this is what he'd miss the most. Grim thoughts entered his mind about the death of his comrades and his own fair share of killing. They soon reached the center of the small neighborhood. A clock tower chimed ominously, sounding 10:00 in the morning. The stone tiles of the streets were cracked and dustly, some out of place. The man's boots stomped heavily through the wreckage. He scraped at his greasy face with his dirt-caked fingernails. His fingers brushed past small areas of unshaved stubble on his chin. The roar of an airplane engine broke the deafining silence as it raced past the group of men. Tired blue eyes scanned the open area where they were standing.

The very instant that he turned to face the other soldiers of his group, a rapid fire of bullets came charging at them. Panicked, the group dove to the nearest make-shift blockad they could find. A man from their group fell to the ground, blood pouring from his uniform. He was writing in pain, screaming and calling for help. The man tried to ignore the pleas of his friend as he loaded his gun with shaky hands and breaths. The two other men began firing at the enemy perched in the remains of buildings. The man sat his gun on the rocks and aimed it at a soldier sitting by a window, with his gun directed towards their group. He fired, and instantly the enemy fell from the three story window, crashing into the ground below him. The firing stopped, but the man still sat behind his fort, searching for others. When he felt confortable it was clear, he signaled to the remaining men. He rose from his spot, and carefully walked to the body of his fallen friend. The soildier was indeed dead. He closed his eyes in despair. Another plane rushed in the sky, craking the air with its monsterous roar. The man glanced at his mates, and nodded at them to signal to move on. The heavy boots continued to crunch on dirt and kick pebbles.

At long last, the group made it to a rescue site. Tents of wounded men were set up all around, as well as lines for food and water, and a rescue plane. The man dragged his heavy heels to a water line, and recieved a cup of water from a smiling woman. He nodded at her in thanks, and wandered to the rescue plane line. He gripped his cup tighter in his hands, waiting impatiently for the plane. He unbuckled his helmet, and ripped it off of his head. Greasy strands of blonde hair fell to his eyes, while some stands stuck up in place. He rubbed his hand through his hair, scratching his scalp. The wind blew delicately in his face, which he was grateful for. After taking a deep breath, a soldier in front of him turned around to face him. "Hello," he smiled. "My name is Max Winters." Max stuck his gloved hand out to the blue-eyed man. The man placed his helmet back on his head, and shook his hand. He nodded a greeting. "I am Ludwig Beilschmidt," he responded with a raspy voice. Max looked around the camp. "It's sad to see so many good German soldiers die here." He sighed. Ludwig nodded slowly. He kept his eyes above the grassy hills to watch for a plane. Max shuffled in his boots. "I'm hoping for a beautiful girl when I get back. That, and a tall glass of beer." He laughed. "And what about you? You got a girl back home?" Ludwig cleared his throat, and took another sip of water. "No." He responded flatly. A thunderous tremble in the air signaled the arrival of a rescue plane. The men in line cheered as it landed nearby. "Well, I guess we're up!" Max cheered. He made his way to the enterance of the plane, and Ludwig followed after. Sweaty and dirty men were packed into a small area with several seats. The men who were unfortunate enough to not get a seat were either standing on the plane, or forced to wait for the next one. Luckily, Ludwig got a seat next to Max. "Finally going back to Berlin..." Max sighed as he looked out the window, spying on the rolling green hills and trees, to the destroyed city. Ludwig slumped in his seat, relieved to finally sit down, placed his chin to his chest, and drifted off to sleep.

A few hours later, the plane landed at a clearing on the outskirts of Berlin. The men were escorted off the plane, and were directed to a truck that would stop by Berlin. Exhausted men made their way to the truck, and threw down their equipment. They all stacked up on the back of the truck, and waited for it to move. As they traveled closer to Berlin, the expressions of some men dropped to see that it had mostly been destroyed. The truck stopped at a small camp. A man from he camp instruced them to check in, and then they were free to go a train that would go to other parts of Germany. "All this travel... I just want to go home," Some men grumbled under thier breath. Ludwig got off the truck, and gathered his belonging. He walked as fast as he could to the tent, so he could leave. "Name and division?" A man said from behind a table. "Ludwig Wilhelm Beilschimdt, 305th Infantry Division." The man shuffled some papers around, and wrote something down in ink. "Alright, son, you're free for temporary discharge." He handed Ludwig a stack of folders and smiled. "Sir, I'm trying to get back to my brother, Major Gilbert Beilschimdt of the 291st Infantry Division. Where can I find him?" Ludwig pleaded. The man shuffled around more papers. "The 291st is currently stationed in Wittenberge for recruitment." Ludwig nodded back at him and responded with thanks before boarding the train. He found a nice empty compartment near the back and curled up near the window. The city was as crumbled as the one in France. Ludwig sighed. He wondered if things would go back to how they were before. A memory faded into his mind. It was blurry, but he could make out a large figure with blond hair and blue eyes, much like his own. A sense of warm familiarity crept up Ludwig's chest. His father. He died of some illness when he was a child, leaving him and his brother in his mother's care. Ludwig couldn't remember his father very well, but occasionally, he could feel him watching over him. "Hey, Beilschmidt." A voice woke Ludwig from his memory trance. Startled, he looked up. Max was standing in the doorway. "Do you mind?" Ludwig shook his head, and gesured to the seat across from him. Max threw his things on the seat, and plopped down. He groaned. "I just want to go home." Ludwig grunted in agreement. "What are you going to do when you get back?" Max asked Ludwig. "I... I want to see my brother." Max turned his head at Ludwig. "I don't have any siblings. What's he like?" Cloth crumpled as Ludwig moved his knees cloder to his chest. "He is a military trainer. He's a major in the 291st. I haven't seen him in two years." Ludwig turned his head to look out the window as trees blurred in the window. "I want to see my brother."

The train screeched to a halt at the Wittenberge train station. Ludwig got up, and grabbed his backpack. "This is my stop." He said to Max. Max waved his hand in good bye. "It was nice being with you, Ludwig. I hope you find your brother." Ludwig smiled at Max, and quickly walked off the train. Ludwig looked around the city. If his brother was anywhere, it would be at a bar. Ludwig smiled to himself, and started down the main road. As he walked further down the road, he heard very faint traces of music. Sounds of muted trumpets and drums came from a door leading down to an underground bar. This was it, Ludwig was certain Gilbert was down here. Excitment filled his feet as the took off to the door. He opened it, and jazz filled his ear. Ludwig made his way down the stairs, and looked at the scene in front of him. Smoke from cigars and cigarettes filled the air, the smell of beer was ripe, and three girls were up on the sage, singing jazz. Ludwig scanned the room for his obnoxious brother. No sign. Taking a deep breath, Ludwig walked over to the bartender. "Excuse me, but have you seen a man with silver hair around?" The bartendeer grinned. "Oh sure, the guy who's been chugging all my beer? He's around the corner."

"Thank you so much," Ludwig rusheed to the other side of the bar, and there, sitting at a table with a girl, was his brother. He was hard to miss, with his pale complexion and silver-blond hair. He walked over to his table, and the girl Gilbert was sitting wih looked up a Ludwig. This stopped Gilbert in his conversation, and he looked up to Ludwig. For a moment, there was silence between the two. Just quiet realization that they found each other. But then, Gilbert jumped up and wrapped his arms around Ludwig's neck. "Ludwig! I'm so happy I found you! I thought I would never see you again!" Gilbert wiped tears from his eyes before Ludwig could see. "I didn't think I would make it back," Ludwig smiled weakly. Gilbert hugged him once more before turning to the girl. "Ludwig, this is Elizabeta. Eliza, this is my baby brother Ludwig." The girl, now known to Ludwig as Elizabeta, stood up from her seat and shook Ludwig's hand. "Yes, you are all Gilbert ever talks about," she laughed. Gilbert chuckled, looking to the ground. "Ludwig, I bet you're thirsty. Here, have some beer."

The three of them sat down at the table, and Gilbert tossed Ludwig a pint. "So, how is it being on the front?" Gilbert asked. "Terrifying. It's too quiet in France." Ludwig stared at the bottom of his glass. "Well," Gilbert coughed, "At least you're doing something. I never get to fight." Gilbert took a swig of his own beer. The upbeat jazz music stopped for a moment, then started up with a slow swing song. "Oh!' Gilbert set his glass down. "Elizabeta has a friend here, and she's all alone. You should ask her to dance," Gilbert grinned. Elizabeta nodded. "I'm sure she'll love that. Here, I'll take you to her." Elizabeta grabbed Ludwig's hand and led him to a young girl sitting at the bar. "Bella, this is Ludwig. He just got back from France, and would love to dance with you," Elizabeta pushed Ludwig towards the girl. She had curly blond hair to her shoulders, and was wearing a red dress with white lace on it. Her red stained lips parted into a smile. "Sure, I'd love a dance, Ludwig," She sat up and linked her arm in his. Both of them walked to the dance floor, Ludwig dragging his feet and blushing like a fresh tomato. Bella turned to Ludwig once they were standing on the floor, and she took Ludwig's right hand in hers, and placed her other hand on his shoulder. Ludwig awkwardly placed his hand on her hips, and they swayed back and forth to the music.

Stars shining bright above you

Night dreams that seem to whisper 'I love you"

Ludwig looked above Bella's head and saw Gilbert and Elizabeta swaying, wih their heads pressed together. Bella was doing most of the leading, which made Ludwig feel guilty. He knew that the male partner was supposed to lead, but in all honesty, he didn't really want to. Red fabric of Bella's dress brushed against the wool of Ludwig's uniform. Her eyes fluttered from Ludwig's eyes to his lips. Bella began to lean to Ludwig, turning her head slightly. Ludwig barely noticed her actions in time, so he became the unfortunate victim of kissing. Her lips were soft against his ragged skin, and her eyelashed skimmed the base of Ludwig's cheek. Ludwig waited for something to happen, something that has been described by many of his friends and peers. That fluttering feeling in his chest, like fireworks bursting out of him. But none of that came. Maybe he was too tired. Ludwig shrunk back out of the kiss, and looked into Bella's dark blue eyes. It was decided. He had to go home as soon as possible. The song stopped, and the two broke the lock between their hands.

"Uhm..." Ludwig stuttered. "I have to go." He rushed past Bella, leaving her on the dance floor, and stopped next to Gilbert and his dance partner. "Gilbert. I need to go home," Gilbert let go of Elizabeta's hands. Music started up again, but more upbeat and fast. "Okay, sure." Gilbert smiled a bit at Ludwig. With a sigh of relief, Ludwig looked back at Bella for a moment, and noticed her sad eyes. Guilt spread Ludwig like a wave over rocks. He turned his head back to Gilbert, and urged him to hurry up. Gilbert waved a hand at him. "Okay, okay, I'll be upstairs in a bit." He kissed Elizabeta before leaving up the stairs after Ludwig. Ludwig straigtened his tie as soon as he got outside. "I have a little room in this house up here," Gilbert's voice startled Ludwig. Wih a sharp breath, Ludwig whipped around to Gilbert. "Okay, let's just go there." Ludwig took off up the street to where Gilbert pointed. Gilbert shrugged his shoulder's at Ludwig's odd behavior. "Jesus Lud," Gilbert started. Ludwig always hated the nicknames Gilbert had for him.

They walked up to a large white house with the sign "Frauline Laurna's Pension"- a boarding house. The wooden stairs creaked under their boots, all he way to Gilbert's room. Gilbert fiddled with the lock before opening the door, and let Ludwig in. "Holy shit man, you need a shower." Gilbert commented. Ludwig nodded, before throwing his heavy backpack on the floor near the desk. "Here, take this towel and these clothes. The shower's in there," Gilbert led Ludwig to the bathroom. It was white tile with a small bathtub and shower head, along with a toliet crammed in this tiny room. "Thanks, Gilbert." Ludwig set the towel down on the toilet seat. Gilbert pat Ludwig on the shoulder, and closed the door. Ludwig started to undress. His body was covered in dirt and scrapes. He peeled his socks from his feet, and groaned at the bandages covering his feet, and infections throughout his foot. Carefully, he removed the bandages, hissing in pain as they came off. He then removed his tie and jacket, along wih his shirt and undershirt. God, it felt good to get these clothes off. He turned the water nozzel to hot, and waited for the water to steam up. The bathtub squeaked as Ludwig stepped into the hot water. He suddenly became aware of his own stench. His mind brought him to Bella, and he became embarressed. He wondered if she could smell it. But, then again, she could've been drunk, which might have explained her actions... Ludwig wanted to find a reason to not be guilty for tonight. But he couldn't find one that made sense. The water ran down his nose and onto his lips. Ludwig shook his head, and proceeded to wash the dirt from his body.

Slow jazz played from the radio as Ludwig exited the bathroom weating fresh clothes. Gilbert lay on the bed, reading the newspaper. When he heard Ludwig enter, Gilbert put down the paper. "Hey. You're looking better," Gilbert sat up. Ludwig sat on the bed next to him. "Yeah, I feel better," Ludwig rubbed the back of his hair, still dripping. Pale pink fingers twiddled in Ludwig's hands. Gilbert coughed. "So... How about that dance? You and Bella were looking pretty good together," Gilbert nudged Ludwig in the side with his elbow and laughed. Ludwig faked a smile, "Yeah, it was great." He swallowed. "C'mon, Lud, you sly dog! I saw you kiss her," Ludwig's cheeks instantly lit on fire with embarressment. He covered his eyes with his hands. A heavy arm was placed around Ludwig's shoulders. "Don't worry so much, Luddy. I remember my first kiss," Gilbert laughed a bit.

Ludwig muttered into his hand. "Sorry, what was that?" Gilbert asked. Slowly, Ludwig pulled his head from under his hands. He took a deep breath. "I said, 'I didn't kiss her'. She kissed me," He looked away from Gilbert, even more red. "Whoa, really? That's so awesome! All the girls are chasing you!" Ludwig sniffled. "But-" His voice cracked, and tears began to form in his eyes. Gilbert instanly stopped laughing. "Are you-Are you okay?" Gilbert took his arm off of Ludwig. It was all so awkward. God, Ludwig needed a cigarette. He scratched his arms, waiting to calm down. But his tears finally fell from his eyes as he thought about what he was going to say. What was he going to say? That he was tired, or drunk, or still shocked from war, or maybe all three? Or... Or maybe he should just tell the truth. "Ludwig, hey, you can tell me what's wrong," Gilbert said softly. Branches from the trees swayed in the wind. Ludwig's head felt so heavy. He took a breath to stabilize himself. Well, here goes...

"Gilbert, what if-" Ludwig started. Tears flowed from his eyes, causing his blue eyes to be surrounded in a ring of red. He brought his fist to his mouth. This was so stupid of him. This was the most he had cried in a while, and it was over something this dumb. Just say it! A little voice yelled at Ludwig. "What if I don't like her in that way," Oh god. He said it. Why, why, why did he have to say it! Ludwig's body felt like it combusted from the inside. There was an impending silence in the room. Gilbert's red eyes looked to the floor in thought. Ludwig put his head back in his hands. No... Here it comes. "Ludwig," Gilbert's chest expanded as he inhaled. "You know that's illegal." Ludwig choked as another wave of sobs exited from his eyes. "Y-yes, I know. I don't mean to, I didn't-" His voice was drowned in hiccups. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!" Ludwig leaned forward even more to hide his face. The white shirt on his back shivered with him. "You better keep this a secret. You know what they'll do to you." Gilbert's hand rested on Ludwig's back. Ludwig's tears began to slow. Yes, he knew what would happen to him. He was terrifyed of anything like that happening to him. Ludwig brought his head up, and stared at the wall ahead of him. He balanced his head on his knuckles. Gilbert embraced Ludwig, and put his head down on his shoulder. "Listen, Lud. You're still my brother. I won't tell mom, or anyone," Smiling at this, Ludwig sat up straighter. "I guess this makes that whole thing with that kid from school so much easier to understand," Gilbert joked. Ludwig laughed, and looked at Gilbert with his blood shot eyes. "Yeah, I guess," He responded. Suddenly, Ludwig's head felt lighter.