((I want to warn everybody, do not use this fanfic as a substitute for your German lessons at school. I make mistakes on purpose when a non-German is talking. So I'm sorry, just open those books and start studying! Ludwig will hunt you down if you make mistakes like these in German.))

But life continued, after a few days the names of the deaths weren't mentioned any more. Their beds were occupied by new prisoners, most likely the reason why the other eight had to make place. Barrack C was crowded, every single bed was taken. But winter had to come, it was already November and snowflakes were falling down from the skies. The ground was becoming harder to dig into and it cost more energy than usual. The bread had been removed from their rations, only soup was left. Mark had an even worse cough, sometimes it seemed like he couldn't catch his breath anymore.

The prisoners were separated into group to work. Some worked in the morning and some in the afternoon. Arthur, the Dutchy, the Russian and he were put into the afternoon group. It atleast meant that they could rest some more in the cold mornings. They didn't get any more blankets or better clothing, most of them still wore the uniform they had received when they joined the army in their homeland. It was easier for the Germans to recognize them as POW.

It was morning, the first group had already left to start work. Alfred stared at the wall in front of him, thinking about a way to escape. Arthur had just looked sadly at him when he told him about his plan. ''It's never going to work, you can't escape from here'' he had mumbled. ''I won't give up that easily'' Alfred had replied.

He saw the rest of the barrack sleeping, a unhealthy pale color on their faces. There were rumors about the flu, there was said there were casualties in the other barracks. Alfred tried to avoid sick looking people as much as possible, if you fell ill, you would most certainly die. Medicine was only for the German guards.

He saw someone entering the barrack and turned his head towards him. It was a soldier, but the weird thing, he was alone. Mostly, the Germans only entered a barrack with at least one other guards for safety, it was protocol. Alfred sat up straight and held a close eye on the nazi, who didn't seem to notice him yet, walking into the barrack, past the bunks.

Alfred had the feeling he knew the nazi, but he wasn't sure. It was certainly not one of the guards, he would have recognized him easily. He softly got of his bed and walked towards him, the German had turned his back on him and didn't see him coming.

''Why…erhm…warum bist Sie hier?'' he asked. He needed to know if he had to wake the Dutchy to let him seek a hiding place. The German was clearly startled but tried to hide it as he turned around. A look of surprise appeared on both of their faces, it was the German from the trenches. ''You still living'' the man said with surprise now he saw Alfred in front of him.

Alfred heard one of the POW turning around in their sleep, he didn't want them to wake up and see him talking to a German guard, they are suspiciously enough about the fact that he talks to the German deserter. ''Did they find the rest of the American army?'' he asked, anxious to know about their fate.

But Ludwig shook his head. ''No, we no find they. New German soldiers come , I sent away to camp because bad leg'' Alfred remembered that the soldier had been limping when he left to the camp. Ludwig had told him back then that it was because of a bullet wound which didn't seem to heal. Alfred could see the German wasn't happy about being sent away, he knew Ludwig wanted to fight against the enemy.

Alfred changed the subject, hearing Mark cough in his sleep. ''Can you get some medicine? He's sick'' he tried to persuade the nazi. Ludwig frowned shortly and walked towards the teen. Mark seemed even younger when he was asleep, when he was awake, he tried to seem as tall as possible and even made with a razer a small cut in his cheek, like he had cut himself while shaving. He did everything to seem as old as possible, most guards were tricked by it.

Ludwig hesitated for a moment, seeing a feverish color on the teens face. ''He are young. How much years?'' he asked, turning to Alfred. ''Eighteen!'' he quickly lied, while he saw Ludwig reaching for the pistol on his belt. ''He's 18 years old!'' Alfred bit his tongue, hoping the guard would fall for the lie. Ludwig again looked at the sleeping Mark and got up again, his hand moving away from the pistol. ''I will look medicine, no promised'' he said while leaving the barrack.

Alfred sighed relieved, Mark had one more day to live at least. All those Germans were just the same, no mercy for anyone. Even a sick kid could have been killed!

But Ludwig only returned when the morning-group went back to the barrack. He wasn't carrying any medicine and shook his head when Alfred looked at him hopefully.

The day of work seemed even harder, they had to built a new barrack. Tomorrow, they would have to put the rooftiles on the top. For today, they were putting the doors in place and the last support beams under the roof.

Alfred held a close eye on Mark, standing next to him, helping where ever he could. He saw the teen having great difficuilty with the heavy beams and the eyes of the guards were piercing in their backs.

Alfred was praying for a miracle, a miracle that could save this teens life. Mark had tried to prevent coughing when guards where around it also made breathing harder.

((Please, sent your opinion about Ludwig and Gilbert already knowing each other, being brothers, friends or just acquaintances. If I get enough opinions, the next chapter will be on in three hours!))