8: A Cry for Attention
The day's mood changed rapidly when a blinding pain speared the back of Corporal Langenscheidt's left shoulder shortly after he left the mess hall. After everything that had occurred in the last few weeks, the last thing he expected to have happen was a muscle knot. Then again, it was completely minor compared to the tonsillectomy, the pneumonia, and the stomach flu he had just gone through.
I'm just going to keep it to myself, Langenscheidt thought. Erich needs a break. I probably slept in an awkward position.
He tried to ignore it at first, attempting to maintain good posture, though it seemed like every time he got close to what would be considered proper posture, it hurt even more. There was a slight tingling feeling shooting up and down his left arm, and a hard tugging sensation throughout his back.
It could be worse. It could be much, much worse. I could be throwing up while being chased by geese again. Langenscheidt managed a slight smile as he thought about the disaster that was his and Kielholz's leave just a couple of weeks ago. I can handle a knot in my back.
As the day dragged on, so did the throbbing pain in the back of his shoulder, but he refused to say anything, as he didn't want to be coddled and doted on. I can handle this. It is not a big deal. It will work itself out on its own.
He was yanked from his thoughts when he heard Kielholz's voice behind him. "Hello, Karl."
Damn, I can't let him find out about my back! "Hello, Erich." Langenscheidt gave him a nervous smile. "H-How are you?"
"I am well, and you?"
I am not well at all. "I am alright, thank you for asking."
"I just wanted to let you know that I was assigned to watch the prisoners on a work detail for a few hours."
Oh, good! I will be left alone! Maybe my back will fix itself in that time. "That is… great, Erich."
Kielholz raised an eyebrow. "You are acting funny, Karl. Are you sure you're alright?"
"Positive. Never been better. Much better than last week."
"I would certainly hope so. Anyway, I will be back soon. Don't get yourself hurt. Again." Kielholz squeezed Langenscheidt's left shoulder, and Langenscheidt resisted the urge to shout as pain suddenly pulsed down his arm and back.
Usually, an uneventful day at camp was passed by thinking. Thinking about home. Thinking about friends and family. Thinking about what he would do when the war was over. Thinking about having a family of his own. That day was different, as every thought was centered on the pain radiating from the back of his shoulder.
Langenscheidt tried not to slouch as he walked, but like earlier, it was almost impossible. Even in front of Klink or Schultz, it was difficult and painful to maintain an appropriate posture. I have to lie down. He kept telling himself that, though he knew he wouldn't get a chance until that night—if he wasn't on night patrol.
I cannot be on night patrol! Blood drained from Langenscheidt's face as he went to find the patrol roster. When he saw his name listed for the worst patrol he could possibly get—the midnight-to-0200 patrol—he strongly considered checking himself into the infirmary, but a voice in his head told him not to. He was never one to shirk his duties, no matter how unwell he felt, but he knew he wouldn't be able to perform his best with a muscle knot in his back.
Langenscheidt argued with himself on whether or not this was a good idea as he waited for Kielholz and the prisoners to return from their work detail. He knew Kielholz was going to fuss, but he would rather put up with fussy Kielholz than a hurting shoulder at night. He continued to hesitate even after Kielholz and the POWs returned. He approached Kielholz, still feeling torn. Put up with it, or get it fixed. Put up with it, or get it fixed. Put up with it, or—
"Karl? Are you alright?" Kielholz turned to face him as he closed the door to Barracks Two after escorting the prisoners back inside.
"Um… I'm…" Spit it out!
A sympathetic look appeared on Kielholz's face. "Why do you look like you are about to cry?"
Langenscheidt hadn't even realized he wanted to cry until Kielholz brought it to the forefront of his mind, but the thought of crying amplified the pain and numbness in his back and shoulder. He had been holding it in for the entire day, and it came pouring out like a busted high-pressure water pipe.
Kielholz first took on a confused expression as Langenscheidt burst into tears and explained what his problem was, then gently touched his friend's shoulders. "Why didn't you say something earlier?"
"I did not want to be fussed over."
"It is a knot in your back. That is easy for me to take care of. Here—" Kielholz knocked on the door to Barracks Two.
Colonel Hogan answered. "Everything okay, Kielholz?"
"Yes. Do you have a spare bunk I could use. I need to help Karl with something."
Though he looked confused, Hogan let the two of them inside. "What is this 'something' you need to help him with?"
"He has a knot in his shoulder," Kielholz replied. He pointed to an empty bunk. "Lay down on your stomach, Karl."
Nervously, Langenscheidt got in the bunk. He noticed they were just as uncomfortable as the bunks in the guard barracks. Suddenly, he felt the entirety of Kielholz's weight on top of him. "What are you doing, Erich?!" Langenscheidt called, panicked.
Kielholz was straddling his back, hunched over so he didn't hit his head on the bunk above. "Just lay still, and relax." He began massaging Langenscheidt's left shoulder quite roughly, sending waves of pain throughout his body.
The residents of Barracks Two looked on with a mix of curiosity, amusement, shock, and sympathy for Langenscheidt. Newkirk took his cigarette out of his mouth. "Blimey, they're odd fellas, aren't they?" he said.
Carter's eyes widened when he heard Langenscheidt shout something particularly foul at Kielholz. "Geez, I think that's the first time I've heard Langenscheidt swear." He watched for another second or two before walking over to Kielholz. "Hey, if you're going to massage out a knot, you can't be that rough. You're just going to hurt him more."
"You also did not need to sit on me!" Langenscheidt grunted.
"Yes, mate, if you're going to sit on him, do it in your own barracks," Newkirk chimed in.
"Your barracks was closer," Kielholz said.
"Still, we didn't exactly need the live theater performance of 'Corporal Langenscheidt Screams His Bloody Head Off.'"
"Can I try, Kielholz?" Carter asked, ignoring Newkirk.
Sighing, Kielholz got off of Langenscheidt. "Sure."
"Alright. Where is it locked up, Langenscheidt?" Carter put one hand on Langenscheidt's left shoulder.
"In the center between my spine and my shoulder blade," Langenscheidt said, voice muffled from putting his face in a pillow.
Carter applied gentle pressure to the space between Langenscheidt's shoulder blade and spine, steadily increasing the pressure until Langenscheidt said it was too much. "Well, I can definitely feel the knot," Carter said.
As Carter worked on his shoulder, Langenscheidt could feel a cooling sensation abruptly flooding the entire left side of his torso. His left arm was no longer tingling. "That… is actually helping."
Carter looked at Kielholz. "See? You just gotta be gentle, buddy. Don't just climb on top of him and press him like you're kneading pizza dough."
"You can't be rough with pizza dough, Carter," LeBeau said.
"Same deal. Don't be rough with pizza dough. Don't be rough with your friend."
"Right." Kielholz sighed. "I'm sorry, Karl."
Langenscheidt glared up at him. "I accept your apology, but when you get a knot in your shoulder, I promise I will be extra rough with you."
