Joe and I stood side by side as we watched the German citizens filing into the camp to help get rid of the bodies properly. It was ordered, against their will, since it was set to see that they were being punished for not knowing what was going on merely down the street from their own homes. After Joe and I woke up in each other's arms again, we both separated from each other in order not to get in trouble, though we are never caught in the same room. I knew the others had suspicions about us, but they weren't going to openly talk about it. Not without getting a black eye for a fat lip from Joe.
I held his hand in mine, my french braided hair was flowing in the wind as we watched ever person, man and woman come into the camp with shock on their lips and their handkerchiefs covering their faces from the smell. Joe and I chose not to cover our own faces, since the scent was the least of our worries now. I only stared, seeing each person look at us as if we are putting a gun to their head. Did it feel like that? How we were forcing them to help deposit dead bodies of innocent souls. Have they not have known? It was surprising for me to realize such a thing, though I was too far gone from arguing about it with other in higher authority.
I was then thinking about how Joe asked me to marry him, in Germany on a dirty mattress in all places. Sure I was no typical girl, but I was also some kind of hopeless romantic when it came to being proposed to. And Damn, Joe picked the perfect spot after seeing a slaughtering of his people and telling me he loved me. It showed to me that he too was far from a normal guy from Frisco. He still wanted to marry me though, after the war and after we were safe and sound. Joe saw value in me, and I did with him too. There was no second guessing my decision in wanting to marry him, I fell for the kid from the moment he made me laugh and smirked at me. There was no way in hell I was going to let him go now.
A couple was walking by, having me see them stare at our joined hands with disgust. Joe shoved our joined hands behind us slightly, still staring at them and showing no emotion as I did the same, seeing them walk away and try not to show their own emotion of hate. I gently squeezed his hand in mine, feel how cold his hand was in my fair one.
"Just breathe Joe." I reminded him, having me see him scan the camp again and see the horror behind his eyes.
"I wanna burn this place to the ground." He said through gritted teeth.
"So does everyone else in Easy," I reassured him, seeing him look over at me and I stared back at him with seriousness, "No one else is going to be hurt here, Joe. Remember that." He nodded his head at me, having me smile at him as he kissed my forehead, my other hand going to his arm and squeeze it there. He was still mourning, and I needed to stand next to him and let him know that he was going to fight this with me and the rest of the Easy Men, whether he likes it or not. After a couple of more citizens went into the camp to get to work, Nixon walked over to the both of us and gave us a short smile, though he too was grieving over what he was seeing and not giving the German people the light of day.
"La Noux, I want you to head over to the Hospital with Doc and Spina and do one last check up on the liberated men there, see if they need any more help and then after that, we're gonna head to Berchtesgaden." He explained to me, having me nod my head as he looked over to Joe, "I want you to go with them in case they need translating since Webster is off doing another errand."
"Yes sir." Joe replied, the both of us turning around and heading back to the jeep to go back into town. I was glad to be out of that area, way from the camp that did such terrible things to those who did not deserve it. Joe though, I could feel, was still trembling from the sheer sight of the place. This murdered him: heart and soul. He needed some kind of healing, because I knew he was never going to be the same. Never again.
"Ii n'y a pas de plus, mon amour." I whispered to him, knowing that he would not understand what I was saying. But I still had to tell him that it was all behind us now, and as we sat in the jeep and headed over to the hospital, I knew he was feeling the same thing that I was feeling in the pit of my stomach.
Guilt. Guilt and Shame.
"Could you tell him to drink more water if he can, he needs to keep the fluids back in his body." I explained to Joe as we stood side by side in front of a liberated prisoner, who was watching us carefully. All of the prisoners were looking better, trying to get more weight in them but still failing since their bodies were rejecting the food that was given. I went through at least a dozen men at this point, and with the help of Joe, explaining to them what they needed to do to get better: sleep as much as they could, eat little by little with fatty foods, and drink more water than they were used to.
"Triken Sie Mehr Wasser, Wenn du Kannst." Joe explained to him, seeing the man nod his head and then take both of my hands in his as if I was some kind of saint. I merely smiled at him, seeing the big eyes that he had and that they were about to gloss over in tears.
"Danke." He said to me in a sobbing tone, nodding his head over and over. He released me, having the pair of us then walk over to the next patient that was alone: a man in his mid-forties that looked as if he too has seen better days. But from what I saw, in how he was sitting in the chair and looking around, it was as if he was a teach of some kind. Poised, not scared to slumped over.
"Guten Morgen Herr." I said to him learning how to say good morning was easy enough for me. But the man looked at me with a gentle look and nodded his head once.
"Good morning to you as well." He said back to me in a thick German accent, having both Joe and I floored since we were so used to the German Language by now. This was a real shock for the both of us, having me smile because I could't think of another thing to do.
"You speak English?" Joe asked with wonder next to me.
"I learned English when I was a young boy in my village, an American taught me. You don't know how good it feels to speak English after so long in the camps." he replied to the both of us, having me then fold my hands in front of him.
"Then is it okay if I examine you sir?" I asked him politely.
"Of course, since you're the first medic here to use common courtesy on me. The others just shove their fingers down my throat, as if I didn't know what they were saying." he said in an amused tone as I examined his throat for swelling and then his pulse.
"Why didn't you say anything then?" Joe asked with a shrug of his shoulders. The man shrugged back, a smug look on his face.
"No one asked." I grinned, having me look at him then with curious eyes.
"So, are you Jewish?" I asked him, taking his wrist in my hand and looking at my watch to time his pulse.
"I am not, though it never really mattered when I was in the camp. Most of the time they saw me as a Jew." He explained to me calmly, having me hear no tremor in his voice.
"So a German citizen then?" Joe asked, sounding a bit shocked to what he was hearing. I looked at the man as well, seeing him watch the both of us as I placed his skeleton hand down and on his lap.
"Born and raised in this very city to be exact, I know these walls and these buildings far better than anyone else here." he explained, looking around at the big room we were in with the other prisoners. I watched him in fascination, having me see him in more nurturing light since this was far more surprising than I expected. I had one question for him though, but I knew it would be touchy for him answer it.
"So, if you're not a Jew and you live here, why then were you in the camp?" I asked him, seeing him look back at me with stern eyes and a boldness in his stance on the table. He paused, having me stand in front of him and wait for what he was going to say, almost like a student waiting for a teacher to say some kind of speech.
"I was sent to this camp because I turned the cheek of the others around me. Before all this happened, I was a professor of sorts, teaching at the local school all about religion and philosophy. But when the SS came into our town, I was torn from my rights to teach anything about Judiasm, or anything else that was not involved with the Nazis. Now I knew I had to survive, but it was hard for me not to teach what I thought was honest and true.
As soon as the Nazis were in power, I was hoarding and protecting Jews from the SS, hiding them in the darkness of my home and in my attic and basement. There was no choice for me in the matter, I had to do it in the same of society and in the name os decency. I should know, I taught the subject of decency for decades." He laughed when he said this, having Joe and I floored from how light he took this. But when he went on, his voice became serious.
"I was successful for at least 2 years, helping them get food and find their way out of Germany. But the SS caught up with me, seeing that I helped and aided at least 200 people in the two years. I was sent to the camp 1 year ago, a year and two months since today to be exact." He explained calmly, as if it was nothing, but my own breath was lost. I was shocked, mouth opened slightly as Joe was speechless next to me as well. But the man looked cool and content in his seat.
"Jesus." Joe said aloud, the man smile as he said that.
"Well, He did have something to do with it. I was taught as a young boy to love the sinner and hate the sin, to help those who were made in the image of God. Now, we are all made by God and for God, and for me to see those men, women and children being sent away because of something that is their race, that made me want to save them myself. I was not afraid of being sent there in the camp because I knew my God would protect me there, just as he protected the lost souls and took them to Heaven to have peace." He finished his conversation, having me feel as though I was merely nothing in his sight. This man in front of me, whom look like he was about to collapse and die from being underweight and looking like a ghost, risked his own lit for two years and another two more to protect and save Jews. Tears were in my eyes as I reached out to him, taking his hands in my own and seeing him watch me carefully.
"What is your name?" I asked him in a broken tone, Joe placing his hand on my shoulder for support as the man smiled at me.
"I am Franklin Albrecht." He said to me, his voice sounding calm and perfect. I smiled widely at him, shaking his hand in my own. He deserved more than me, much more since he was so close to death so many times. I forget at times that people in the enemy country can choose to be against the emery. They can choose to look away and to be different, to step out of the boundaries of the norm and to save those who they knew could not save themselves. I may be a soldier, from Franklin was a bigger hero than me.
"I'm honored to have met you, Franklin. You are my hero." I confessed to him, seeing him smile at me and pat my hands with his own, though it felt as though I was nothing compared to what he has done and almost died for.
"My dear, I am alive and well because of you finding us. I pray that you continue your own work, do not have what has happened to me become a shadow within your lives." Franklin explained to the both of us though I knew he was directing it at me. He didn't want me to simply rely on his survival and think it was all that it took. He wanted me to live, to continue to fight for what I thought was good and true. Who was I to refuse that to him now?
I had to do it, for Franklin.
We walked into the small town, me staying close to the men as I was looking at the clean and pristine town we were in. Compared to the other towns we took refuge in, the ruined and old places that looked like ghost haunted it, this looked as if it belonged in the papers, away from any sin or stains. Not one thing was out of place, except for the exceptional elephant in the room.
No one was here.
Flags. White flags were hung from the windows. They were big, flying in the wind and blowing silently as we walked through the town of silence and solstice. Not one soul was around, having the rest of the men, including myself, looking around in wonder as to why we were here in the first place. This looked and felt like a trap, though nothing or no one moved to show any threat. I just looked at the high buildings and apartments around us as I saw the jeep Winters and Nixon was in, driving by us slowly. They were talking about why there was no one here, but my face was too occupied with the Alps around us, the high mountain peaks tucking us away from the world. We were so small in this place, small and insignificant as we walked some more.
"Eerie, not even any natives."
"That's because in this town you can't deny being a true Nazi." I heard Nixon explained.
"What do you mean?"
"You have to be to live here."
That gave me a more uneasy feeling in my gut. This was a Nazi town, the word was is used lightly. I doubted any other Nazi would want to be here again since from the looks of it, it was no longer Nazi territory. But the thought was still there, Nazis lived here, ate here, slept in the beds here, and that made me even madder about it. Did they think this was normal for them, another day on the job? But now they were going to be just a memory
A nightmare for the world.
"Hi-yo Silver!" The men cheered as we were racing up the mountains, me sitting on the side of a jeep over a wheel on the cover and feeling the sun hit my face as we were climbing up to Eagle's Nest, where HItler used to live. He was no dead, dead and no longer a threat to us. At least that's what I kept saying in my head. But now we were celebrating, that we were victorious and no longer in peril. This was us climbing up to the top of the stains and turmoil that has haunting us for months and months on end.
The more we got higher, the more relief I was feeling in the moment. There was no need to be afraid, no need to be scared that the next morning would be my last. We were living the easy life now, which meant that there was another thought of going on. When are we going to go home? Was it going to be anytime soon? Home. The thought in my mind seemed so foreign and so far away, since home was now me being with Easy Company. There was no other group of people I would fight and die for than this group since I knew they would do the same for me. I saw it, countless times, how they showed their love and affection towards me on and off the war ground. As they cheered that we won, the German falling and dying at our hands and feet, I had to remind myself that this was good, what we were doing was good.
I followed the men into the Eagle's Nest, seeing them all scatter and look around as I looked as well, The place was a palace, built on top of the mountain and looking more like a fortress than ever. It was as if they were going to be held here for the rest of their lives if something went wrong, and it did. I couldn't help but look at the scenery around me, seeing the high mountain tops and how we were in Hitler's retreat. It felt out of place, as if we were on rare fragile ground. I shouldn't be here, no one should. But the rest of the boys were looking at the place as if they won the lottery. Did we?
"La Noux." I looked behind me having me see Malarky walk over to me, a small on his face as he watched me from my spot on one of the balconies of the fortress.
"What do you think?" he asked me, having me look over at me in confusion.
"The guy knew how to live, that's for damn sure." I replied back to him, seeing him nod his head, the optimism never left his face.
"It's kind of cozy if you think about it. Maybe you and Liebgott can shack up here after the wedding." He joked with me, having me smirk at him though my eyes were back on the mountain view that was in front of me.
"Oh, I don't think Joe would want that. He'd rather torch this place to the ground." I replied back, seeing him look over at me now with a more sincere look on his redheaded face.
"But this is good, Marley." He used my first name, having me watch him with my eyes as he went on, "I mean, the war's over and we can go home." I thought about it again, the concept of home. It still felt strange to me, since this was all I was used to and knew from the back of my hand.
"Home." I said aloud, as if it was a new word to understand and to obtain, "I don't know but….I can't picture home at all in my head." It was true, since all that was plaguing me was this time, this war in this country. All the good and bad, the broken and fear, it was coming at me. It was harder to think of my home and how pleasant it was since my mind was now plagued with what was right in front of me. I could feel Malarky squeezing my shoulder with his hand.
"Give it time, Red. Give it time."
Days went on by as we were staying in that town, trying to find out who and when they were going to go home. There was a lottery rolling around, certain people that the right to go home and be home for good, and I hoped it was me. But low and behold I was stuck with Easy, though it was a lighter fell since we would only go on patrol every once in while and the rest of the time we would be together, hanging out and talking about simpler things. There was no one to fight, nothing to fight for, not anymore really. But it was a matter of time before someone was going to snap in two and become a monster. I was a witness to it, a bad one.
I was in a jeep with three others, Sarge Grant and two other soldiers. I was with them on a routine check in one location where I got some more supplies since my own stash was low. I hitched a ride with them, and I was also bored. But Grant was in the middle of a story with us as we were going down a dark road with no one around.
"I don't get it." Said one of the soldiers to Grant's story.
"lt's D-Day. lt's 2nd Platoon's own Bill Guarnere. Old Gonorrhea himself. Just landed in Normandy and all wound up.' Whose side?'' What a character." Grant explained in a grin, having me smile from the sheer thought of Wild Bill. I missed that guy, he was a true character. Though his memory was short lived when we saw two cars up ahead of us, both of them stopped and one soldier hunched over the second one, looking as if he was in trouble. But it was the two dead bodies in front of him on the road that worried me, as well as Grant since he slowed down the jeep.
"What happened to him?" The soldier asked, clearly still on the story with Bill. Grant's face was on the man though, who looked over at us with a glazed look on his face.
"Got his leg blown off in Bastogne. Wait here." he said aloud as he got out of the car slowly, walking over to the man. The man then walked over to him, having me then feel as though everything around us was frozen solid. He had a gun in his hand, and he was smiling.
This was not good.
"You okay, Mac? You need some help?" Grant asked calmly, though the man was laughing and not even showing any kind of seriousness to him. I slowly got out of the jeep too. I knew I had some stuff in my pack for something like this, getting him pills that would take away any kind of headache and food a well. He was drunk, beyond drunk.
"The wouldn't give me any gas. Krauts." he said in a gleeful tone as I walked over, standing behind Grant and keeping still.
"I tried to explain. This fucking limey wouldn't listen! I think he was a major." He said, having me see the second body and notice that it was an English uniform.
"Look, private, we got a problem here." Grant started in a low tone, but as soon as the man looked over at him, I knew he was on the brink of crazy.
"Do you have any gas?" He asked in a wondrous tone though the alcohol was slurred in his tone.
"Private, I had food for you if you need it, and water to get you sober." I started, seeing Grant look over at me as I shuffled through my satchel to get him something. But I looked up, seeing him eye me suspiciously and Grant placed an arm in front of me, holding me back.
"I don't need your fucking food!" He screamed at me, having me go silent as Grant spoke again.
"Why don't you give me your weapon?" He asked, walking over to him and holding out his hand to take the gun. But the man moved away, looking at the two jeeps as if he was thinking of a good reason to steal them both. I was scared of what he was going to do next, beyond scared since I couldn't move my feet off the floor.
"Well, I guess I'll just use his jeep. I don't think he's gonna need it." He said in a simpler tone, about to walk away when Grant went after him.
"Hold on a second, alright?" he asked, but then a gunfire went off and I screamed. Grant fell to the floor, his blood on my face and jacket and the solider ran off with his own jeep. The two soldiers from our jeep ran out of the jeep and over as I ran to Grant, grabbing his head and holding it in my hands. He was bleeding out, and there was nothing I could do as the drunk soldier was driving away with seconds. And here I thought all would be well for us from here on out. I was still going to be covered in blood, no matter what. The two soldiers came to us, having me look up at one of them.
"Go find help!"
