Obergruppenführer John Smith knew this hunting trip would be dreadful. What he did not expect was for it to be nerve-wracking. Unpacking, suiting up for the hunt, tramping through the brush-all presented opportunities for the fatal "accident". There was a moment in the lodge when, clad in their tweed jackets like a couple of nouveau poor English squires, they had reached for their guns by the door. Thomas, ever more clumsy now due to his illness, knocked over both guns. Assuming John's gun was unloaded as it most certainly ought to be, Thomas picked it up by the barrel and handed it stock-first to John.
How easy it would have been to pull the trigger. John considered the possibility...and decided he didn't want blood on the floor. A visible stain would haunt him for the rest of his life.
Later, walking through the sparse woods, Thomas carelessly got out ahead of John. Hunters were supposed to spread out side by side to stay out of the line of fire. Thomas was practically begging to be shot. A startled pheasant flew up between them and gave John an excellent excuse.
But not excellent enough. John hesitated, worrying about the distance. It was essential he kill Thomas outright in one shot. At this distance, bird shot could kill a pheasant. But a boy, wearing a thick wool coat? John wasn't sure.
It had seemed so simple when John had planned this hunting trip. Boy Killed in Tragic Hunting Accident—it seemed so natural when he thought of it as a headline. The details weren't so easy.
The trip was threatening to drive John mad. Startled pheasants gave him several excellent shots, but his concentration was ruined and his aim was terrible. Somehow, every bird survived unscathed.
Thomas had similarly terrible luck, but the boy was typical of his coddled generation, so that was no surprise. Those not hardened by the kind of combat John had seen were bound to lack the killing edge. And that did not even take into consideration the degeneration of muscular control due to Thomas' disease. The boy was fast becoming helpless and worthless. And yet, John found himself unable to do the necessary thing to his son.
His only son.
Helpless, indeed. It seemed to run in the family.