June, 1957
Hammelburg, West Germany
Hans Dietrich wasn't one to pass up a lovely morning like this one. The last few days had been similar—some clouds, but pleasantly warm with no rain. They were also similar in his routine—wake up, get dressed, brew some coffee, and sit outside with said coffee. It was nice, really. The only voices were those from the radio, and his occasional mutterings while writing down notes on a sheet while playing his piano. He nearly had something that could be classed as music. The silence, and the fact that he was in control of any sound made in the house was wonderful, especially compared to the loudness of the Bundeswehr base he was presently stationed at.
It hadn't been an easy decision to rejoin the military when West Germany formed the Bundeswehr two years prior, but Dietrich went through with it. Things had gone well thus far, but he always looked forward to going home on leave. He looked forward to peace and quiet.
He expected that morning to be no different, but the tranquility was shattered just before he could sit down by the telephone ringing. A heavy sigh escaped him, and he headed back inside to pick up the phone. "Hello? Who is this?"
"Dietrich? I… hope I'm not interrupting anything," Jack Moffitt said. He sounded worried.
"No. Just a quiet morning and my coffee," Dietrich replied. "Why? What do you need?"
"I was wondering if you've heard anything from Troy recently."
"How recent are we talking?"
"A month."
"I have heard nothing from Troy in a month."
"That's… concerning."
"Indeed it is. Have you tried calling him?"
"I did yesterday. No one picked up."
"Not even Shauna?"
"No. Nobody."
A sense of anxiety began tightening in Dietrich's stomach. "Maybe you called at a bad time. Have you talked to Hitch and Tully? Maybe they know something."
"I'll have to wait a few hours to call them."
"Alright. I will let you know if I hear something. Troy might be busy."
"Even when he's busy, he makes time for all of us. This is extremely worrying."
It really is. I did not even realize that I have not spoken to Troy in over a month, even by mail. "We will figure it out, Moffitt. No need to worry."
"I'll try." Moffitt sighed. "I must get back to my tea and breakfast. Good talk, Dietrich."
Dietrich hung up after Moffitt did. He went out the front door to check his mailbox, wondering if there was anything from Troy. When he found nothing, his worry returned. Why on Earth would Troy just go quiet? He is always pestering us—especially me.
Three hours passed before the phone rang again. Dietrich was a little more eager to answer, as he hoped it was Troy. Instead, it was Hitch.
"Hey, Dietrich, how are you?" Hitch asked.
"I am doing well, mostly. How about you?" Dietrich replied.
"Uh… not too well, actually. Have you heard from Sarge at all in the last few weeks?"
"No. Moffitt called me just a few hours ago, asking the same thing."
Hitch gave a disappointed-sounding sigh. "Damn. This is really weird. Sarge has never gone quiet like this."
"No. This is certainly unusual. Perhaps he is ill."
"Shauna would've said something—that's the other weird thing. I haven't heard from her, either. I even tried calling and nobody answered."
"Strange."
"Yeah. Really strange. What do you think we should do?"
"Right now, I am not sure. Perhaps Tully knows something."
"He's at work right now, so I can't call him till later. I gotta run, too, but… I just wanted to know if you knew something."
"Alright. I will let both you and Moffitt know if I hear something. Talk to you later, Hitch."
"Thanks, Dietrich. Bye." Hitch hung up.
Dietrich put the phone back on its hook. This really is bizarre. So, Troy has not spoken to Hitch or Moffitt. Or me. Why?
He didn't get another phone call until a little after ten that night. Again, he hoped it was Troy. This time, it was Tully.
"I didn't wake you, did I, sir?" Tully asked.
"No, I am still awake," Dietrich said. "What can I do for you?"
"Has Sarge talked to you at all in the last month or so?"
"No. Both Moffitt and Hitch called earlier today to ask me the same thing."
"Damn it." Tully sighed. "So, nobody's heard from Sarge in a month."
"I guess not. Why are you all calling me about it?"
"Sarge trusts you quite a bit. If something was bothering him, he'd turn to you."
Dietrich's mind turned to something Troy had told him nearly eight years ago. "I've said my life is worthless out of frustration, but I've never seriously thought about ending it. If… I ever did, I'd tell Shauna. I'd tell Hitch, Tully, Moffitt… and you. Frankly, you should be the first I go to, because you've been down that road." Bearing that in mind, Dietrich found himself struggling to stay calm. "Yes. Yes… he would." You have no idea if that is the problem right now. Do not jump to the worst possible scenario.
"I take it Hitch and Moffitt are worried, too?"
"Very worried," Dietrich replied. "So am I." He drew in a breath. "Tell you what—I will go visit Troy myself, and see if I can figure out what is going on."
"You'd do that?"
"Yes, and I will let all of you know what happens."
"Thanks. You're a lifesaver, Dietrich."
Oh, I might have to be. "No problem," Dietrich said. "Have a good night, Tully." When he hung up, Dietrich stood in the kitchen for a moment. He feared the worst, but he was still determined to help Troy as best he could. He hoped there was just some mistake, an honest misunderstanding. Something innocent. Troy had told him time and time again that he would turn to Dietrich if he ever went down a bad path, and Dietrich believed him.
After all, Troy had helped Dietrich many years ago when the former DAK captain nearly ended his own life.
It was hard to sleep, so Dietrich was up very early the next morning. He packed a suitcase, drove to the nearest international airport, and prepared to sit through a serious of flights to the small, quiet town of Douglas, Wyoming.
His own anxiety made it difficult to eat during stopovers, but he managed to have a couple of small meals just to keep himself going. He probably consumed more coffee than food over the next few days, and didn't think much of it. All that mattered was solving this mystery of Troy.
The weather in Wyoming was just as nice as that in Germany, but something felt different on the bus ride from the Converse County airport to Troy's ranch. Dietrich couldn't quite pinpoint it, but it wasn't pleasant. He got off the bus, and paused in front of the mailbox. There was a good bit of mail inside. This feels… familiar. Dietrich shuddered while remembering how he refused to answer any mail from the Rats over the course of three years. He walked up the path to the house, and up the steps to the porch. He could see the horses grazing in their pasture, and hear Shauna's chickens clucking amongst themselves in their pen, but he didn't see anyone. Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the door.
No answer.
Dietrich sighed, then knocked again. He cursed in German, and took out his keyring. All the Rats had spare keys for each other's homes, as did Dietrich, in the event of emergencies. Dietrich considered it rude despite the others insisting he have copies of their keys, but he made an exception that day. He unlocked the door to find Shauna sitting at the kitchen table, looking sad. She was staring blankly at the table, and her eyes were red and wet.
"Shauna?" Dietrich set his suitcase down. "Are you alright?"
Shauna looked at him, and sniffed. "Hello, Hans. When did you get here?"
"Just now. What happened? Is Troy—"
"Sam's alright."
"Then… why have neither of you spoken to anyone in the last several weeks?"
"Because we just want to be left alone right now."
"Why?"
"It's… none of your concern."
"I volunteered to come see what was wrong. The others are extremely worried because of your silence."
Shauna sighed, and went back to looking down at the table. "It'll get better. Tell them not to worry."
"Shauna—"
"I don't want to discuss it right now."
"Fine. Where is Troy?"
"Horse barn."
"Alright." Dietrich turned to head back outside, but paused in the kitchen doorway. He took a glass from the cabinet, filled it with water, and placed it in front of Shauna without a word. Then, he headed outside. He walked past the chickens and made a beeline for the horses. After making sure the gate was closed behind him, Dietrich went through the pasture, ignoring the horses as they tried to sniff and nuzzle him. Sure enough, he found Troy in the barn, specifically, the tack room, cleaning a set of bits in front of him.
He didn't acknowledge Dietrich when the skinny German entered the room.
"Troy?" Dietrich said. "Is everything alright?"
Troy glanced up at him, then resumed what he was doing.
Dietrich sighed. "Something is clearly not right, and I have no intention of leaving your property until you tell me. Moffitt, Hitch, and Tully are all worried about you. You have not spoken to us in about a month."
Troy continued ignoring him.
"Troy, please—"
"Go home, Dietrich," Troy muttered.
"No. Not until you tell me what has happened." Dietrich braced himself, unsure of what Troy was going to do.
"Well, you're going to be there a while."
"I know how this works, Troy. Have you forgotten how much of a challenge it was to get my problems out of me?"
"No, I haven't forgotten."
"Then you know I understand what you are going through—"
"No, you don't. You haven't the slightest idea what I'm going through right now."
"Then what are you going through right now?"
Troy set everything down, and gripped the edges of his workstation. He sighed heavily. "Do you know what Shauna and I have been trying to do for the last four years?"
"No."
"We've been trying to have kids."
Dietrich's heart sank. "I take it… this endeavor is not going well?"
"No. We can't… have children. We just… can't."
Dietrich was at a loss for words. "Troy, I—"
"Don't apologize. Just… don't bother."
"I was going to say that I have no idea what to say."
Troy looked back down at his workstation, his guard beginning to come down. "Not a single doctor in this entire state can figure out why. Not a single one. We tried everything, but nothing has worked. Nothing." He looked back at Dietrich. "I don't understand."
"I can see how that would be upsetting," Dietrich said. He wasn't sure that was the best thing to say. Nothing felt like a good thing to say.
"I've had a suspicion for over a year that it just wasn't meant to happen, but we kept trying, and trying, and trying, and trying. Tully's got two kids. Hitch now has two kids. Moffitt's got his son and he's happy with just one. Every single time I see them, I tell Shauna, 'I want one of our own.' She wants kids, too, but no matter what, we just… can't."
Dietrich was tempted to ask why that resulted in Troy closing himself off from his own team, but he decided against it.
"I don't know what to do anymore. Ever since coming home from Korea, this is what I've wanted—to start my own family, and… it looks like that's not possible."
"This is something that requires a great deal of patience."
"Dietrich, we've been patient for four damn years. We tried everything, for four years. We saw a lot of doctors, for four years. It's obvious that patience is not the issue here."
Right. That was truly the wrong thing to say, Hans. "I… I apologize, Troy. Perhaps that was insensitive."
"Since it's coming from you, I don't particularly care. You're fine."
"Well, I… I do not exactly want to be a bad friend, Troy."
"Dietrich, you're you. I know how your brain works. I know you're not trying to be an ass."
A confused look crossed Dietrich's face. "Uh… thank… you?" Well, you are you, Troy, and I still have no clue how your brain works. He wondered if Troy was starting to feel a bit better if he was back to being confusing. Never thought I would see the day I would be happy for that.
"You're welcome." Troy put the cleaned bits away. He sighed again, once again looking lost. "I guess… I should be glad you're here, because I haven't been… doing well for a while. Everything's kinda been… piling on top of each other. What I told you about how we can't have kids is the root of it all. Not that long ago—around when I… stopped talking to everyone—I put all of my focus into work. I didn't even want to talk to Shauna. Not because of something she did, but because I needed to be left alone. That was all I wanted."
"Did you fight?"
"No. We just… didn't talk to each other." Troy shrugged. "Nothing. We existed together in the house."
"That sounds very sad, honestly."
"It was. I won't deny that. I felt guilty about what I was doing, but I wasn't sure what to do. Shauna eventually ended the silence by sitting me down and asking, while she was crying, if I blamed her. I said, 'No, because we don't even know why this is happening. Even if it was something wrong with you, I'd never blame you.' That made her feel a bit better, but I could tell that she was still upset about the whole thing. I wanted to comfort her, but I had no energy, no… nothing. One part of me was determined to help, the other felt nothing. Absolutely nothing. So, I got scared. I lay awake one night wondering if I had just fallen out of love with my wife, and then it got worse—I started fearing that she fell out of love with me."
"Have you fallen out of love with her?"
"No. I have no interest in anything. I just work to keep myself occupied."
"I see. This sounds very familiar. Troy, I think you are depressed, just like me. Well, maybe not exactly like me, but similar."
"Great."
"I think I may have a solution as well."
"Oh? What is it?"
"It is for both you and Shauna, so back into the house you go."
Dietrich was somewhat surprised that Troy listened to him, and walked with him with no issues back to the house. Shauna was in the middle of wiping down the counters when the two men entered the kitchen. Troy paused near her, looking a little ashamed and unsure of what to do.
I am not letting these two fall apart, Dietrich thought. "Alright. Both of you, have a seat."
"What's this about, Hans?" Shauna asked.
"I have an idea that I believe will help. Do you trust me?"
"Yes, but—"
"Then please sit down, next to your husband, and listen to me. Thank you."
Shauna sat next to Troy, looking a little confused.
Dietrich drew in a breath. "Alright. Clearly, things have not been going well. Things beyond your control have made it so your dreams for a family may seem hopeless, and it is taking a toll on both of you. I know you two love each other deeply. However, perhaps some time in a different environment will help you both clear your heads and make it easier for you to talk to each other."
"What are you suggesting, Dietrich?" Troy asked. "We take a vacation?"
"Yes. In a way. I am suggesting that Shauna stay with someone like Hitch's family, and you and I will take a little trip of our own. A road trip, I believe the term is."
Shauna and Troy exchanged mildly confused looks, then Shauna said to Dietrich, "I thought we were supposed to be talking to each other to sort this out."
"I think proper, temporary separation may help. Away from the house, away from your work."
"You really think that'll help?" Troy asked.
"I cannot say for sure, but it is worth a try."
Troy shrugged. "Alright. Shauna, what do you think?"
"Is there a reason you're suggesting Hitch's family in particular, Hans?" Shauna asked.
"Because they are good people, and Hitch's mother is very good at giving advice. I would know," Dietrich said.
Shauna thought for a moment. "Well… I don't see why not. I'm willing to try."
"Then I'm willing to try, too," Troy added. "I don't like it, but… I trust you, Dietrich."
"Thank you," Dietrich replied. I am a little worried about how this will go, but I will not say that to either of them.
Dietrich gave Troy and Shauna time to make sure the ranch would be taken care of while they were both away. Before the bus arrived to take Shauna to the airport, she pulled Dietrich aside in the kitchen. "Promise me you'll take care of Sam," she said.
"I will." Dietrich glanced around, making sure Troy wasn't within earshot. "Serious question, Shauna… you love him, right?"
"Of course I do. That's why I'm not sure this plan of yours will work."
"Because you want to be with him."
"Yes, but if you believe this will help—"
"And I do. I think he needs to be somewhere else for a little while."
"If anyone can help him, it's you."
That is not something I would ever have thought fifteen years ago. "I owe him that much for helping me with my depression."
Shauna sighed, and squeezed Dietrich's shoulders. "Alright. I trust you." She let go. "Where do you plan on taking Sam?"
"West. A nice, long drive up to the state of Washington, and out to the Pacific Ocean. I hear it is quite pretty there."
"Alright." Shauna squeezed Dietrich's arms. "Please, be careful, and please let me know when you get there."
"I will. I promise, Troy will be back to his old self when you see him again."
"Thank you, Hans. Before I forget—" Shauna let go again, and opened the refrigerator, taking out a container of cinnamon rolls. "You'll need something to snack on for the trip."
"I appreciate it, Shauna." Dietrich set the container on the table before Shauna could give him a hug and a quick kiss on the cheek. "I wish you luck."
"Thanks. Good luck to you as well."
After Shauna was on her way to the airport, Dietrich picked up his suitcase and the container of cinnamon rolls before heading out to Troy's truck. He made sure his things were secured before getting in the driver's seat.
"You still think this is a good idea?" Troy asked while getting in the passenger seat.
"Yes," Dietrich replied.
"Okay."
"This will be enjoyable," Dietrich said. "Just the two of us."
Troy nodded. He still didn't look very enthusiastic. "Where are we going?"
"I told Shauna we are going west, up to Washington."
"Okay."
Dietrich glanced at him. Making him happy is going to be a challenge. A big challenge. Come, now, Hans, you can do it. He then turned his focus back to the road. If it is true that he and Shauna can never have children, perhaps you are wasting your time. No, I cannot think like that. I have to do something. Anything. Maybe this idea was a bit extreme. Dietrich kept his attention on the road, trying not to look unsure.
Troy eventually broke the silence. "Dietrich?"
"What?"
"What exactly made you think a road trip is going to solve things?"
"It was the first thing that came to mind."
"Okay. Fair enough."
"Did you have something better in mind?"
"Not really." Troy became quiet again. "I hope this works. I mean, maybe it is, because I already miss Shauna."
"Well, we are already on the road, and she is probably at the airport by now, so, there is no turning back at this point."
"So, you're saying I'm stuck with you."
Dietrich grinned a little. "Troy, you make that sound like a bad thing. You would have been ecstatic for something like this not that long ago, because it means we are all by ourselves and you can annoy me to your heart's content." He briefly looked at Troy. "Give it time. You will feel better."
Silence fell over them once more. Dietrich chose not to be pushy with Troy. He found it interesting that Troy had been open so far about what he was feeling, while also acting closed off, uncertain, sad, and afraid. He seems to be fighting to stay afloat in the sea of his mind. He cannot fight forever on his own. Someone has to offer him a hand.
They were halfway between Douglas and Casper when Troy spoke up again. "I haven't slept much in a while."
"Forgive me if this sounds a bit harsh, but when you are with me, you will not neglect yourself," Dietrich said. "What else have you not done in a while? Have you been eating?"
"I had a cup of coffee this morning."
"Not counting that."
"Dietrich, don't start."
"Too late." Dietrich, ever the skillful driver, reached behind his seat to pull out the container of cinnamon rolls that Shauna had given him. He set the container on Troy's lap. "Eat something."
"These're yours."
"Nobody said they had to be mine only."
"But Shauna gave them to you."
"And I am letting you have some. Please. Take one."
Troy hesitated a moment, then took out a cinnamon roll.
"Have you had water?"
"Yes, I've been drinking water. Dietrich, you really don't have to be a mother hen."
"The student is becoming the master."
Troy sighed, and Dietrich swore he saw him rolling his eyes while taking a small bite out of the cinnamon roll in his hands.
Dietrich couldn't resist any longer and took a roll for himself. He took a much larger bite, then tried finding a place to put the rest of it so he could keep driving.
"Don't get glaze on my steering wheel," Troy muttered.
Dietrich put the rest of the roll on the dashboard.
"Don't get crumbs all over my truck."
"I will clean it afterward. No need to get your pants in a twist."
"Dietrich?"
"Yes?"
"You wanna know who you're acting like?"
"Who?"
"You're acting like me. I don't know if I like it."
"Oh. In that case—" Dietrich reached over, took Troy's slouch hat off, and put it on his own head.
Troy was actually stunned into silence, but the ghost of a smile was tugging on the edges of his mouth. He looked like he wanted to laugh, but something was preventing him from doing so. "Okay, Dietrich. H-Have we had our personalities switched or something?"
"I do not recall handling any cursed objects. Do you?"
"No."
"Alright. But, if I start talking like you and eating unsweetened baking chocolate, then we should start worrying."
Troy shook his head. "You and Shauna aren't going to let the damn unsweetened baking chocolate thing go, are you?"
"Not a chance."
"Why?"
"Because it is funny." Dietrich glanced at him. "In all seriousness, though, despite your habits, quirks, and what have you, Shauna loves you, and she is worried about you. I was worried I was going to find something much worse when I came here."
"What could be worse than this?"
Dietrich wasn't sure he wanted to vocalize his thoughts and fears. Instead, he showed Troy the scar on the inside of his right wrist.
"Oh. Right." Troy became quiet for a moment. "No, I… I didn't get that bad, because I can't bear the thought of Shauna being alone. It was bad enough leaving her to go to Korea. It was bad enough getting shot in Korea. I keep in mind the memory of her running up to me in tears and hugging me when I finally came home."
"It was still something that concerned me."
"I probably should've… tried harder to talk to one of you. Out of everyone, I'm glad it was you who came."
"And why is that?"
"Because even though the circumstances are different, I feel lousy. Very lousy. And… you're an expert when it comes to feeling lousy."
"It is not a skill, Troy."
"I know, but I'm trying to say that you do get it. You get the not talking, not eating, not sleeping, the wanting to scream or cry, and the general feeling of crappiness."
"I do."
"So, who better to fix things?"
"Troy, you know I am not exactly… better. Well, I am better compared to ten years ago, but I will always be fighting this."
"I know, but I still want your help."
"Good. You have acknowledged the problem, you have accepted help with the problem, now the challenge begins—actually solving the problem."
"I thought this road trip was supposed to help with the problem."
"As nice as it would be to just sit here in silence, I doubt silence will solve anything. We will have to talk, but only if you want to. I do not want to put any unnecessary pressure on you."
"Thanks." Troy finished the cinnamon roll he had taken. "So, we're going to the Pacific coast, huh."
"Yes."
"Any particular reason why?"
"Not really. I figured we should go somewhere that will take us a few days to get to, so we have plenty of time to talk."
"That means we'll be crossing through the Rockies. That'll be nice. Shauna and I drove through on our way to Alaska after I came home from Korea. That was an experience neither of us will forget."
"Alaska or driving through the Rockies?"
"Both. It was just us, driving through nothing but wilderness for several days. We didn't see people aside from when we made rest stops. Even then, there were a few areas where there was no one at the rest stops. There was one up in Canada—I think it was on the border between Yukon and British Columbia—with no one, and it had the prettiest view overlooking one of the bluest lakes I've ever seen. There was a town not that far off, so we took advantage of that and sat on the roof of the truck to watch the sunset." Troy fell silent again. "Maybe we should've done that again, instead of… mope around."
"I doubt referring to your behavior as 'moping' will help."
"Well, it's true. I haven't been doing anything aside from working. I haven't taken Shauna on any dates or spent time with her. I completely ignored you and everyone else."
"You had a perfectly valid reason for that, but you just did not go about handling it in a good way. Separate the two."
"Why? Why should this even have upset me in the first place?"
"Because you want children, and you have learned you are incapable of having any."
"Exactly. So what? I didn't get something I wanted. I should just accept it and move on."
"This is different from just 'something' you want. It is not like an inanimate object."
"I've lost bids on horses and I never got upset over it. Disappointed, yeah, but not depressed."
"That is still different."
"How?"
Dietrich sighed, not sure how to explain it.
"I got used to not getting anything I really wanted growing up. If I acted like this in front of my father, I can guarantee I'd be made to clean horse stalls until I got over it—"
"And that was basically what you were doing when I arrived today."
"No, I was cleaning bits today—"
"Same principle. You were working and working and hoping that you would eventually 'get over it.' I highly doubt this is something you can make yourself numb to, and frankly, you should not even try."
"It's never going to happen. I can't change that. What do you want me to do?"
"You need to accept it, but trying to just shove it out of your mind before you are ready is not the right way to do it!"
Troy clenched his fists and drew in a breath. "Then tell me what to do, Dietrich, because I don't know what to do anymore. How do I just accept that I'm never going to get the chance to hold my own kid in my arms? How do I just accept that I'm never going to see them take their first steps, or say their first words, or learn to ride a horse, or anything? How do I just accept watching my friends being so happy with their children, while I just have to be content with visiting them?"
"I wish I had an answer for that. The best comparison I can make is that you have to accept it the same way I have had to accept the fact that I cannot bring any of my soldiers back from the dead."
"And how did you do that?"
"A lot of time, patience, and people telling me it was not my fault, even when I firmly believed it was."
"Do you still believe it's your fault?"
"I have days where I do, and days where I never even think about it. I will admit that I have not fully accepted it, even though thirteen years have passed since I surrendered." Dietrich sighed. "I apologize for not being able to give you a clearer answer. This is not something you can solve instantly."
He saw Troy nod in the corner of his eye. "It's okay," Troy said. "As long as you're listening, it's… it's okay."
"Exactly. That is what I am here for."
As the drive continued, Dietrich had forgotten that he was still wearing Troy's hat until hearing Troy say, "Can I have my hat back, please? I never thought about how goofy it would look on you."
"Go ahead, take it back," Dietrich said.
"Thanks." Troy took the hat. "Hey… damn it, Dietrich, you got glaze on it!"
"By accident."
"So? You still got glaze on my hat!" Troy sighed heavily. "At least it's dry and came off easily. Don't do that again."
"I make no promises."
"No. Make it a promise, buddy."
Dietrich pretended to think about it. In truth, he would be more careful, as he knew how much that hat meant to Troy. As a joke, he said, "No."
Troy glared at him. "I really am starting to wonder if some witch got bored and switched our personalities."
"I doubt it, but like I said earlier, we will worry when—"
"Yeah, yeah, talking like me and unsweetened baking chocolate. Keep driving, Dietrich."
Author's Note: The "personality switch curse" jokes are references to Texaslass2000's phenomenal and hilarious story "The Looking Glass Raid."
