DISCLAIMER: This is an actual event in history. All of what transpires in the following chapter is historically accurate, and therefore I am warning the reader that this chapter is graphic and disturbing. But once again, the events in this chapter are very real and actually happened on June 10, 1944. Please take this into consideration as you continue to read, but most importantly of all, let us not forget, so that this may never happen again. Also, I do not own Hetalia or the characters.

As fate would have it, Ludwig was stopped in the hallway a few moments later by a man who had a letter in his hand.

"Are you SS-Sturmanbannführer Ludwig Beilschmidt?" he asked.

"I am."

The man handed the letter to him. "This is addressed to you."

Ludwig took the letter and thanked him, and the man left. He glanced down at the return address and smiled. It was his fianceé, Eva Müller.

Without waiting to even leave the hall, Ludwig moved out of the way of anyone walking through and leaned against the wall as he ripped the envelope open.

When he pulled the letter out, something fell to the floor. Ludwig stooped to pick it up, and when he reached for it, he stopped cold.

It was a ring. But not just any ring. Her ring.

His heart fell down into the pit of his stomach. This must be some mistake. He grabbed the ring and looked at it closely. His eyes must be lying to him. This couldn't be hers, there's no way! There must be another Beilschmidt somewhere, someone must have made some mistake…

In almost what felt like a dream, Ludwig straightened up and opened the letter. His heart broke more with every word that was written.

Ludwig

I haven't seen you in close to two years now. I just can't do this anymore. You say that you love me more than life itself, but I just can't believe it anymore. Germany has taken the place in your heart that I thought was mine.

I'm sorry.

Goodbye Ludwig.

Eva

Ludwig's hands fell limp at his sides, and he dropped the letter and the ring. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he heard the thud of the ring against the wooden floor. His vision went blurry, and his face grew hot. A huge knot grew in his chest. He couldn't breathe. This just isn't happening, he thought. There's just… no way…

Someone called his name. He only half heard them. He didn't care anyway, now that Eva was…

Gilbert was suddenly standing in front of him, a look of concern on his face. How'd he not notice him come up?

"Ludwig, what's going…" He searched his face, then his eyes widened. He glanced down at the letter and the ring that lay on the floor, forgotten. "Mein Gott," Gilbert whispered.

Ludwig's knees failed him, and he crashed into Gilbert's lean frame, but Gilbert caught him. He slowly sank down to his own knees, holding the silently sobbing man he called his brother, trying to think of something to say, but nothing came to mind. So he just knelt there and tried to keep his brother from falling apart.

Gilbert gave Ludwig a few moments before pulling him up to his feet. "Alright, bruder, we've got a job to do."

Ludwig took a deep breath, then smoothed his hair back with one hand. With the other, he wiped away his tears. He cleared his throat, then bent down and picked up Eva's letter and ring. He then folded the letter and placed it along with the ring in the inside pocket of his jacket. "You're right," he said harshly. "We've got a job to do."

Gilbert grinned. "That's the spirit!" He clapped Ludwig on the back as they walked out of the hotel together.

The clouds had begun to gather as soon as the clock struck eight, and the rain began to fall about an hour and a half later, soon drenching everything and everyone in it.

Ludwig stood unflinching in the downpour, his coat collar turned up against the wind and rain. His face was stone, his brow furrowed and lips turned down in a sort of passive grimace. The familiar weight of his Luger P08 service pistol at his hip offered some sort of stability in the midst of the unknown and chaos all around him. Men were running back and forth, yelling orders. Jeeps splashed through the deepening mud, spraying it in every direction they went.

Gilbert sloshed through the mud to stand just behind Ludwig's right shoulder. Ludwig didn't turn around.

"My men are ready to move," he said.

"Same," Ludwig replied.

Gilbert rubbed his jaw absentmindedly with one hand as he glanced over his shoulder behind him. "Got any idea what exactly we're about to do?" he muttered just loud enough for only Ludwig to hear.

"None at all," Ludwig whispered.

Just then, Deikmann rolled up next to the brothers in a jeep. Both Ludwig and Gilbert snapped to attention and saluted. "At ease," Deikmann barked. Ludwig folded his hands behind him, and Gilbert crossed his arms.

"Are your men ready to move?" Deikmann inquired.

"Yes sir," Ludwig responed. Gilbert nodded.

"Good," he replied.

"Sir!" Ludwig called out before Deikmann could drive away.

"Yes Beilschmidt!"

"Might I ask where we're moving our men to?"

Deikmann grinned. "Oradour-sur-Glane."

"Thank you, sir." Ludwig forced a smile as Deikmann's Jeep drove away. The smile faded as soon as the Jeep was far enough away, which was when Ludwig finally turned to Gilbert. Concern was etched onto his face, and his eyes were worried.

"There's nothing in Oradour-sur-Glane. I know this, you know this…" He shook his head slowly. "What are we doing?"

Gilbert shrugged and watched the Jeep slowly grow smaller in the distance. "Nothing good, I know that much."

A truck rolled by, and Gilbert's eyes widened. He nudged Ludwig in the arm with his elbow and pointed to the truck with his chin. Ludwig turned to look, and whispered something inaudible. The bed of the truck was filled with ammunition, weapons, and cans of gasoline.

"Mein Gott," Ludwig murmured, "Deikmann has lost his mind."

However, something caught Ludwig's attention. Something that left him at a loss for words.

The officer driving the truck that held the ammunition, weapons, and gasoline was none other than a man by the name of SS-Standartenführer Roland Schieck. A man that Ludwig himself had pegged to be a psychopath.

The rain did not last terribly long, and Gilbert and Ludwig, along with the men who rode with them, pulled into the small French village behind the convoy of about eleven jeeps and trucks at about two o'clock in the afternoon. The weather had turned today into a pleasant Saturday afternoon, and the sun was shining on the mud puddles that were scattered here and there. About two hundred men had come to Oradour-sur-Glane this afternoon, their intentions still largely unknown and shrouded in mystery.

Gilbert put the jeep in park and killed the ignition, and all of the soldiers who rode with them quickly grabbed their weapons and jumped out, but he didn't open the door. Neither did Ludwig.

"Can you see what's going on?" Gilbert asked, one hand still on the wheel. "No," Ludwig frowned. "Hold on." After a moment's hesitation, Ludwig pulled his pistol out of its holster, chambered a round, reholstered it, and opened his door before he grabbed his rifle and stepped down into the muddy cobblestone street.

"Ludwig…" Gilbert's voice wavered with caution before he stepped out onto the street himself, slamming the jeep's door closed behind him with a sharp and exacerbated sigh.

Ludwig waited for Gilbert to come up next to him though before he began to walk toward the front of the convoy, where Deikmann and Schieck were. As they walked, Ludwig's stomach became all tied up in knots, and his hands were growing clammy. This set him even more on edge. After all, there wasn't much that could put him in a state like this, minus what had just happened with Eva. Eva… He had to get her back somehow. There was no way that he could just simply let her go, not after all that they had been through together over the years. Various questions and reasons why she would send such a letter to him ran through his mind, primarily that he had left her alone for too long, and she had turned to found comfort in another man. But no, he couldn't be speculating about such things. He would have to find out the facts and the truth behind this whole ordeal. How exactly he was going to do that was a mystery to him at the moment, but he could think about that later. He had to figure out what on earth was going on, right here, right now, in the small French village of Oradour-sur-Glane, not in the house in Berlin that he and Eva were planning on sharing. Well, had been planning on sharing…

Gilbert grabbed Ludwig's elbow and jerked him around to face him. The look in his eye said something along the lines of Pull yourself together and pay attention, something isn't right.

Ludwig nodded and kept walking. Focus, Ludwig, he thought. Focus on the situation at hand and what's going on right in front of you.

Deikmann and Schieck stepped out of their respective jeeps and gestured for the higher officers to draw close, which included Gilbert and Ludwig. When they had all gathered around, Deikmann spoke up.

"Gather every person in this village into the market square. No exceptions. Tell them to bring their paperwork for an identity check. If they resist…" He casually pulled his coattail away from his hip and patted his sidearm with his index finger. "Convince them."

Time seemed to slow down until it moved at a snail's pace.

Sounds became dull, nothing more than echoes of shouts and cries.

Ludwig's feet moved at a shuffle, and every house blended together until he could no longer differentiate between them anymore.

The town crier carried the news through the village before the SS.

His voice constantly remained in the background in the midst of the chaos.

The faces of the families in the houses merged together into one blur.

One terrified blur.

A weeping woman holding her baby.

An elderly man startled awake from his afternoon nap.

A screaming child.

The constant thudding of his squad's boots against the cobblestone street.

Ludwig would never forget a single moment of today.

The date was June 10, 1944.

Today was the day it all began.

By three o'clock, all of the village was grouped together in the square. SS were standing all around, rifles out and aimed at anyone and everyone, screaming orders every other second. Ludwig was on full autopilot. If Deikmann said something, he did it. If Schieck said something, he did it. Nothing felt real. His arms felt numb, and his feet were as heavy as if they were made of lead.

Schieck's distinctly sharp voice pierced the afternoon air. "Beilschmidt!"

Ludwig's head snapped in his direction. "Sir!"

"Get the women and children into that church over there." He pointed to a small chapel just over a hill, not far away. "Make it quick, I need you to come back quickly to help search this village."

Ludwig nodded and began giving orders to his men, who were soon helped by other soldiers who were more than happy to aid in breaking the families apart. He caught sight of Gilbert about twenty yards away, by the back corner of the group of Frenchmen who had already been separated from the main group. He had his rifle pointed at the ground in a relaxed position, but his eyes were wide, almost in what looked like a slight panic. He and Ludwig locked eyes for a moment before Gilbert turned away quickly. In the back of his mind, Ludwig had an idea that Gilbert sensed more of what was going on than he could, and it was bad enough to make his normally unshakeable brother so alarmed.

But these thoughts were quickly brushed out of Ludwig's mind. He had to get these women and children to the church. For what purpose, he didn't know, but at the very moment, he honestly didn't really care.

Ludwig returned from taking all of the women and children of the village to the nearby church, having left one of his squad leaders there in charge.

By the time Ludwig stepped into the market square again, all of the men were seated in three rows near the wall. They were talking amongst themselves with hushed and concerned voices. Some were praying. One young man was shaking so much that he could barely sit up straight.

Deikmann walked up next to Ludwig casually, his hands folded behind him at the small of his back. He didn't make eye contact, but only surveyed the events unfolding directly before them. "I hear that you have quite the way with languages."

Ludwig furrowed his brow, taken slightly aback by the question. "I-I know a few, sir, so I guess one could say that."

Deikmann chuckled before continuing. "Do you know French?"

"I do, sir."

"Well enough to translate?"

Ludwig paused, considering, then nodded. "It's not perfect, but it'll do, sir."

Deikmann grunted before walking toward the center of the square and gesturing for Ludwig to follow. He did, and stood beside his commanding officer while Deikmann spoke to the men of the village, and Ludwig translated his words from German to French.

"There are secret arms and munitions deposits here made by terrorists," Ludwig announced loudly, so that his voice carried far past the reaches of the market square. "We shall make searches. During this time, to facilitate our operations, we shall put you in the barns." He pointed to the wooden buildings that stood behind him. "If you know of any such deposits, we request that you reveal them to us now."

At first, no one moved. No one said a word. After a moment, men started to whisper to each other. Ludwig could catch a few words here and there, and they were mostly the same. "What are they talking about?" "What munitions deposits?" "Terrorists? Who are they talking about?"

Ludwig's stomach began to turn. This was not going to end well at all…

Deikmann turned to Ludwig and said, "Beilschmidt, tell the men who are currently at the church to spare anyone they can to contribute to the search of this town."

"Yes sir." Ludwig turned on his heel and set off for the church once more. It would take about five minutes or so to get there, but he wasn't in any real rush.

He happened to glance back just before exiting the square, and he saw Gilbert again. His lips were parted, and his eyes were pleading. Ludwig was so confused… But he didn't have time to wonder at what was getting to Gilbert, so he clenched his jaw and pressed on. He didn't look back.

Ludwig leaned against the side of the church, his rifle leaning against his hip and his arms crossed. Only ten men besides himself were left to guard the women and children in the church, while the rest joined in the search of the village. Ludwig knew they were not going to find anything, because there was nothing to find, and was sure that Deikmann and Schieck knew it.

Ludwig came to the conclusion that they were here for no reason other than to pillage this town. The real question was this: What were the plans for these innocent people?

Almost at the same moment this thought came to Ludwig's mind, Gilbert sprinted around a street corner, panting heavily. "Gilbert!" Ludwig gasped as he ran to his brother, "I thought you were in the square! What are you doing here?"

Gilbert grabbed Ludwig by the shoulders and drew his face close. "They-they're going to kill them!" he whispered hoarsely.

Ludwig frowned, thoroughly confused. "Who? Kill who?"

Gilbert shook Ludwig as hard as he could, so that his cap was knocked off of his head and into a puddle behind him, and then screamed, "ALL OF THEM!"

Ludwig shook his head. "Gilbert, where'd you…" He paused, suddenly overcome by the overwhelming facts that had just come together in his mind.

They had more than enough weapons with them to complete what they believed their job would be when they set out this morning.

They had separated women and children.

A psychopath was second in command in this mission.

And Deikmann was out for blood.

All of the pieces fell into place, and Ludwig's heart began to pound. He put his hands on Gilbert's shoulders. "We have to do something before they-!"

A loud explosion sounded from the market square that cut off the rest of Ludwig's sentence. Both his and Gilbert's heads whipped toward the sound.

And then…

The distinct cracks of machine guns being fired, followed by a chorus of screams, all started coming from different directions.

Gilbert turned away and released Ludwig's shoulders and laced his fingers through his hair. His mouth hung open in what could have been a silent scream. His eyes were as wide as dinner plates. Ludwig's jaw had dropped as well. I must be dreaming…

Gilbert began to run down the street and toward the nearest source of screams and gunshots. Ludwig could only run after him.

They ran for only a minute or so before they came up on it.

A group of SS stood at the open doors of a barn, while the majority of them were inside, walking overtop the bodies of some of the men of the village, all of whom were shot in the legs, some in the head and torso. From where he was, Ludwig could see an arm move toward the front, and a nearby SS soldier saw it too. He quickly pulled out his revolver and shot. The arm didn't move again.

Ludwig could feel Gilbert tense up, and he could practically hear his pent up rage that was just begging to be released. No one had noticed the brothers' presence, so Ludwig decided to use that to their advantage. He grabbed Gilbert's arm and dragged him behind some old barrels that were a few feet away. Gilbert tried to protest, but once he saw Ludwig's plan, he went along willingly enough.

As they sat against the barrels, Ludwig began to rack his mind for what to do next. They were powerless now to help the men in the barn behind them, and he guessed that the situation was the same in all the other places the men of this village were as well by now. But what about the women and children in the church? Were they even still alive? He had heard nothing coming from that direction, so he had to hope that they were still alright.

He had turned to Gilbert and was about to tell him this, when something caught his nose. Gilbert noticed it too, and he made a face at it. Ludwig stopped and sniffed the air, trying to place it, when the horrific realization of what was happening struck him like a slap to the face.

He whipped around to face the barn at the same time Gilbert did, but it was already engulfed in flames. The smell of burning flesh was strong now that he was facing the source, and he could hear the terrified screams coming from inside of the men who were burning alive, along with the lighthearted laughter and small talk of the SS soldiers who stood safely outside.

For the women and children in the church, time was running out.

Ludwig leaned over to whisper in Gilbert's ear.

"The church. Now."

Gilbert nodded and clenched his jaw, looked back at the barn once more, then began to run.

Ludwig followed close behind, only he didn't look back. He couldn't bring himself to do it.

They couldn't escape from the screams, no matter where they ran or how fast. They were carried by the wind to every corner of the village, along with burning ashes from the fires. The stench of burning bodies, both dead and alive, hung heavily in the air and mingled through the streets.

As their boots pounded the stone, the two Beilschmidt brothers had the same thought.

God have mercy on us.