September, 1962

Hammelburg, West Germany

Hans Dietrich was still mostly asleep when he felt a soft hand reaching over to gently stroke the center of his chest, then move up to his head to massage his scalp. He shifted slightly before murmuring, "Good morning, Esther."

His wife tightly hugged him. "Good morning, Hans." She sighed contentedly, resting her head by Dietrich's. "Feels good to wake up beside you."

"It feels good to wake up by you, too." There was sunlight spilling through the window blinds, but Dietrich's brain still felt heavy with sleep. "Five more minutes."

His back suddenly became cold as Esther got up to respond to the whimpers of a baby in a crib at the other end of the room. He sat up, watching Esther pull their three-month-old son, Gunther, out of his crib. "Does he need to be changed or fed?" Dietrich asked.

"I think we would know pretty quickly if he needed a change," Esther replied. "Could you get the nursing cloth, please, Hans?"

"I can. Would you like me to start coffee, too?"

"Yes, please."

After getting Esther what she needed, Dietrich headed downstairs, tying the band of his bathrobe. The weather had been getting colder over the last few days, and the leaves were beginning to change to lovely golds and reds and oranges outside. Soon the yard would be covered in those same leaves, shed from the trees that bordered the northern side of the fence. There were some vegetables nearly ready for harvest in his garden. After that, no gardening until spring. That was alright. Autumn and winter were a fun time of year.

While the coffee brewed, Dietrich started breakfast for himself and Esther. He set aside a carton of cream and the sugar jar for Esther to make her coffee the way she liked when she came downstairs. The smell of frying eggs and potatoes filled the house as Esther came downstairs, holding Gunther. She adjusted the baby in order to kiss her husband's right cheek. "Thank you, Hans. I love you."

"I love you, too, my dear angel," Dietrich said. "Coffee should be ready in a moment."

"Thank you."

Gunther stretched out a tiny hand to grab his father's robe, making a sound somewhat resembling laughter. Dietrich smirked, still unable to believe this was real after everything he had gone through over the years. He set the spatula down in order to hold Gunther, and gave Esther a chance to have her coffee. Sometimes, I am still not sure that I deserve you, Dietrich thought. He glanced at his wife. Or you. But… here you are. My family. Well, part of my family. His gaze turned to a series of photographs lining the shelves in the living room.

It was still hard to believe that his worst adversaries, the Rat Patrol, had become his best friends. In a way, they became family, too. All four of them had done their best to welcome him into their lives when the war ended. It hadn't been easy, though. Dietrich's path immediately after returning to Germany was rough. His hardest battle had been against himself and his depression, which had nearly cost him everything. Despite everything that had changed, he still had reminders of that time in the form of jagged scars on both wrists. His depression would never truly disappear, but over the years, he had gotten better at fighting it and not letting it control him.

Each photograph told a story and held a memory. He found it funny that Sam Troy, the sergeant in charge of the Rats, had become his best friend. The others, Jack Moffitt, Mark Hitchcock, and Tully Pettigrew, had all played a unique role in helping him get better, appreciate life, and find things to bring him happiness.

How ironic that the four men who tried to destroy him had also became his friends and family. Meanwhile, his own blood family had disowned him during the war. Dismissed as a failure, disloyal to the Reich. The only person he had a close connection with, his Aunt Miriam, had passed away in 1943, leaving Dietrich with no one to turn to for help, and plunging him deeper into his depression.

That was in the past now. Dietrich hadn't thought about his blood family in a long time. The only true relative he cared about at the moment was his son. He smiled at Gunther and gently hugged him, unable to express just how much Esther and Gunther meant to him. Having them both with him created a feeling of love that overflowed his heart. He was grateful, even though he still had moments where he felt like he didn't deserve this much happiness.

He expected it to be a quiet day. A baby needed round-the-clock care until they were sleeping. When Gunther was laid down for a nap, Esther joined her husband downstairs. "Did we have anything planned for the day?" she asked.

"Other than baby duty, no," Dietrich replied. "Which is fine. I had no interest in going out anyway."

"I wouldn't mind going out at some point. Maybe we can have Moffitt come over again to help."

"If we can find enough tea to pay him back."

"We have all those boxes of chamomile."

"Those are mine. Besides, Moffitt only drinks chamomile when he is sick. Black tea is what we will need."

"Fair point." Esther snuggled up to Dietrich on the couch. "Still. I know you love that hillside restaurant north of town, with the lovely view. We should go back sometime."

"I would love to go back," Dietrich said. "Someday. When we have someone who can watch Gunther."

Esther nodded in agreement, and kissed the side of Dietrich's forehead.

No sooner had they both gotten comfortable that three knocks were head at the front door. Dietrich glanced over at the front door in confusion, then turned back to his wife. "Were we expecting visitors?"

"No. One of your friends maybe?"

"Perhaps." Dietrich stood, knowing none of the Rats would drop by unannounced unless it was an emergency—or Troy. Troy had a very bad habit of dropping in whenever he damn well felt like it. Dietrich sighed quietly, expecting it to be Troy. He was almost hoping it was Troy, as he didn't want to hear that someone was having trouble of some kind. Then again, he would help if he was asked.

Dietrich wasn't at all prepared for what was on the other side of the door. He opened it to find a leanly muscled man with short blond hair standing his doorstep. The man's hands were in his pockets, and Dietrich recognized the man's grayish-green jacket as being an old army-issued one from late in the war, stripped of any insignia. One look in the man's eyes, and Dietrich knew exactly who he was. He didn't like it. He felt as though he had been punched in the stomach, and everything was crashing down around him. He wanted, badly, to either scream or run away, and couldn't explain why.

The man gave a tiny smile. "Hello, Hans."

Dietrich swallowed, struggling to maintain his composure. "Markus."

"Ah, so you do recognize me. That… That is good, I suppose." Markus shifted his weight. "May I come in?"

"Why?"

"To talk. We have not spoken in, what, nineteen years?"

A desire to cry was threatening to choke Dietrich. He swallowed again. "What is there to talk about?"

"A lot."

Dietrich noticed Esther approaching on his left side. "Hans, who is this?" she asked.

"Nobody of any importance," Dietrich said.

Markus gave Dietrich a confused look. "Well, that… is not true." He glanced at Esther. "Is this your wife?"

Dietrich put his hands on both sides of the doorway, eyes narrowing to slivers of burnt chestnut. "Yes, and you will not set one foot closer to her."

Markus held up his hands. "I am not here to bother your wife. Please, Hans, give me a chance. Listen to what I have to say."

"Then you will say it here on this doorstep."

Markus was quiet for a moment. "Mother passed away last year. I understand that you were removed from her will and Father's, but with them both gone, and… well, I should probably mention that Konrad is gone, too."

"How?"

"He was killed back during the war. I am all that is left—well, myself and you."

"No. There is only you." A tight knot of leaden anger burned fiercely in the pit of Dietrich's stomach. "I still remember the mocking expression, the jeering, the accusations, everything that came out of your mouth that Christmas Eve! You, Konrad, our parents, cousins, aunts, uncles all cast me out! You never showed any sympathy when Aunt Miriam died! You joined in with telling me that I was alone with her gone! You helped in destroying her personal belongings! You mocked me for my faith, and you mocked her and Uncle Gerhardt for teaching me faith! You told me I was a failure at everything I set out to do! You and everyone else—all you cared about was looking good for the Nazis!"

Markus looked a bit stunned by his younger brother's outburst. "I see things really have changed in the last two decades. You do not seem so weak anymore."

"No. I never was weak. You and Konrad were the weak ones! Thinking that brute strength and cruelty was the only way to get ahead in life, treating me, your own brother, like garbage just because I never wanted to play rough when we were little! And you continued to treat me like that. Every damn day. You expect me to even want to listen to you?"

Markus was clearly struggling to respond. "Hans, I understand that the gap in communication means that you have not seen any of the changes in my own life. If… you wish to think about this, I… I understand." He held out a small slip of paper. "Here is my address and telephone number."

Dietrich plucked the paper from Markus's hand, rage still smoldering inside. He watched and made sure Markus was off his porch before slamming shut the door. Things were eerily silent for a moment, then Dietrich turned around, seeing Esther standing in the kitchen. His energy and burning anger rapidly faded, leaving him feeling drained. He sat on the couch, hands shaking. "Esther, I am so sorry you had to see that."

"Are you alright, Hans?" Esther asked.

"Fine. I am… fine." Dietrich sighed, leaning forward and rubbing his face. "That was my brother."

"I heard. You mentioned you had two brothers. Markus was the second-oldest, right?"

"Yes." Dietrich sat up, his composure steadily coming back. "I should not have gotten so angry. I have given others the advice of giving people who wronged them a second chance, and yet here I am, not following my own advice."

"This is personal, and you definitely weren't expecting this."

"No, I was not." Dietrich sighed again, looking down at the paper Markus had given him. He set it on the coffee table in front of him. "I am not ready to have any kind of conversation with him."

"He seemed like he wanted to make amends with you," Esther said.

"I know, but I am not ready. Let me clear my head, and then we can discuss this."

Ashland, Kentucky, United States

Tully Pettigrew scooped a pair of freshly-baked biscuits onto a plate before adding a generous spoonful of sausage gravy to them. Nothing beat that delicious, savory aroma of homemade biscuits and gravy. He brought the plate with him to the table in the dining room, and sat next to his wife. Across the table were their two daughters, fifteen-year-old Eleanor and twelve-year-old Aurinda, Auri for short. They had already started their breakfasts, and were able to really enjoy it, as it was a Saturday and had the weekend to do nothing.

"Well, what'd you think of your first week of high school, Eleanor?" Tully asked.

"Interesting," Eleanor replied. "Strange, to be honest. I expected it to be a bit more challenging."

"You're a smart girl. I think you'll do alright."

"Thanks, Dad."

"Anything you want to do this weekend?"

"I didn't have anything in mind."

Tully grinned. "You wanna start learning how to drive?"

His wife, Mabel, gave him a look. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah. I think she can start."

"Okay. Start slow. You're not in the desert anymore."

"I know. I'll be careful." Tully leaned over to kiss Mabel's cheek. "That's our little girl. I'd never put her in danger."

Mabel smirked before playfully turning Tully's nose. "I know you won't. Still, be careful."

After breakfast, Tully took Eleanor out for a drive, explaining the different components of driving and showing her by example. It was nice to get out and see the countryside of Kentucky as the trees and shrubs and bushes began putting on their autumn best. The season of pumpkins and cozy spices was around the corner. The season of deer and turkey hunts, and comparing quarry with Troy over the phone. Better yet, taking a trip out to Wyoming to hunt alongside his former sergeant. That always yielded good memories. Of course, he also couldn't go wrong with a fire and his wife snuggled up to him on the couch on cold autumn nights. For Tully, all of that was perfection and happiness.

It had gotten cold enough that there weren't many people at the lake, which meant the parking lot was wide open. There was one car in a corner, and Tully guessed it belonged to the older couple way out in the middle of the lake in a boat, holding fishing rods. He smiled at them, and hoped that they caught something that would make a good dinner for the two of them. He returned his focus to Eleanor and her first experience driving, and got in the passenger seat to let her take the wheel. No pressure, no frustration. Tully gave her advice and let her ask as many questions as she needed.

"You're learning. You'll make mistakes. Just be mindful that mistakes while driving can be dangerous," Tully said. "That's why I want you to ask questions and have as little stress as possible, okay?"

"Okay," Eleanor replied.

Her first lesson certainly wasn't perfect—Tully spent most of the time gently telling her to go easy on the brakes—but Eleanor did quite well for her first time. Best of all, she was looking forward to her next lesson. She was eager to learn, and she saw him as a good teacher.

Before going home, Tully decided to make a stop at the only ice cream place that was still open. It would close in the next few days, but Tully took advantage of it still being open to celebrate a successful first driving lesson. It offered a lovely view of Ashland atop a hill, made lovelier by the autumn colors beginning to paint the landscape. It seemed so simple, so easy to miss, but Tully loved the simple things.

He expected to continue enjoying a quiet day with his family when he returned home in the afternoon. The phone started ringing before he could offer to help Mabel with the laundry, and he expected it to be one of the other Rats. Instead, he heard a lightly accented baritone responding to his "hello."

"Hey, Dietrich," Tully said. "How are you? How's your missus and Gunther?"

"They are well," Dietrich replied. He sounded upset. "I… am not."

"What's wrong?"

"I received an unexpected visitor today. One of my brothers."

"How? I thought your family disowned you."

"I am not sure, but he arrived today and wanted to talk. I became quite angry and… now I have no idea what to do."

"Just talk? Or was there something specific he wanted to talk about?"

"It sounded like he wanted to discuss a few things since both our parents have passed away. My oldest brother apparently died during the war, leaving Markus and myself. Well, just Markus. I am not welcome, and… part of me does not care. Usually, I would call Troy with this sort of thing, but I know his situation with his family is still a volatile subject." Dietrich became quiet for a moment. "I need help."

"Say no more, Dietrich. I'll be right over."

"You do not have to do that—"

"I'm insisting. My boss has been telling me that I need to take a little more time off anyway."

Dietrich sighed. "Alright. I will see you within the next couple of days, then."

"Yep. We'll get this sorted out. See you soon." Tully hung up the phone, and noticed Mabel looking at him. "Dietrich needs help. I'm going to try and catch an early flight tomorrow."

"Is he okay?" Mabel asked.

"Physically, yeah, he's okay. He's run into problems with his family. Not sure how long I'll be gone. Hopefully less than a week."

"Alright. You'll tell the girls?"

"Yeah." Tully kissed Mabel's forehead. "I won't be gone long."

Tully wasn't one to refuse a call for help, no matter his own circumstances. He was on good terms with his own siblings, but didn't talk much with them. They had all taken different paths in life, and Tully wasn't willing to tell them the truth about his moonshine running. He was afraid of his mother finding out, and of the effect that would have on her. He had lied all those years ago about getting a job with odd hours in order to make money for his family since his father was unable to work. Even all these years later, Tully wasn't ready to tell the truth.

That was different to what Dietrich had gone through. Back during the war, Tully had always suspected something was different about Dietrich. He never hated him, or any other German. He felt sorry for them and didn't like having to hurt people in order to defeat the system that had brought them there in the first place. Dietrich was just… different, and it wasn't just because he had a prophecy attached to him. Things made sense when Troy suggested that Dietrich was depressed. Tully wondered for a long time just how to help, and he got his opportunity a few years after the war. Then again, it came after Dietrich tried killing himself. Tully wished it hadn't come to that, but in his own soft-spoken way, he helped the skinny German learn to appreciate what life had to offer.

Dietrich had certainly gotten better over the years, and Tully didn't want to see him go backwards, especially with a wife and new baby to think about. But, this was a situation he wasn't too familiar with, and hoped he could find a way to help. He pondered that during his long flight to Europe, and found himself going through the matchsticks he chewed on out of habit a bit quicker than he liked. Oh, well. At least they lasted longer than a cigarette.

Tully had visited Hammelburg many times, but didn't get tired of its quaint streets and pretty little red-roofed homes. The combination of the old buildings and churches mixed with the emerging autumn colors made the town feel cozy and welcoming. He didn't mind the walk from a bus stop in the middle of Hammelburg out to Dietrich's home. There was always something to see, and the things he had seen before never grew boring to look at. He approached Dietrich's porch, suddenly finding himself uncertain of how to help. With a sigh, he knocked on the door.

He heard a deadbolt being unlatched, followed by Dietrich saying, "Who is it?" in German.

"It's Tully," Tully replied.

The door opened, and Dietrich looked greatly relieved to be seeing Tully. "Hello. How was the flight?"

"Long, as always." Tully greeted Dietrich with a brief hug before they went inside. "I've been thinking about what you told me, and I'm really not sure where to start."

"I did not expect you to have a solution right away," Dietrich said. "I just know you do not have anything in your past that may influence how we approach this."

"Yeah. I know it was only a few months ago that Sarge had that bad talk with his mama." Tully shook his head. "I'm not exactly hurt by the fact that she called me illiterate. Wouldn't be the first time someone's assumed that about me. I'm more mad by how she treated Sarge. He didn't deserve that."

"Despite everything he put me through, I am inclined to agree." Dietrich went into the kitchen and paused by the fridge. "I made a pitcher of iced tea for you. Esther really enjoys it, but I convinced her to leave it alone so you could have some."

"Hey, if she enjoys it, don't deny it to her just for my sake."

Dietrich took a glass from the cupboard next to the fridge. He looked like he wanted to say something, but kept hesitating as he poured a glass of tea and handed it to Tully. Eventually, he sighed and said, "I told Esther that I typically tell people to give a second chance to those who hurt them should the opportunity arise for things to be made better. I was… quite harsh to my brother when he visited, especially since it seemed that he wished to make amends."

"With everything you told me about how your family treated you, I'm not all that surprised that you reacted defensively." Tully took a sip of his drink, enjoying the near-perfect blend of sweetened tea and tart fruit. He set his glass down before continuing the conversation. "If you're afraid, that's okay. I don't blame you."

"I am not worried about you thinking I am being silly for wanting to avoid talking to Markus. I know I am afraid. I am afraid of being pulled into a situation where I must endure the same abuses hurled at me that Christmas Eve. I am afraid that… that all this will do is give more control back to my depression."

"A lot has changed."

"Yes, but I… I am not sure I could handle being put back in a similar situation. Worse yet…" Dietrich looked at his wrists. "The last thing I want is for Markus to find out."

"If you knew that things had changed for the better, would you want to talk to your blood family again?"

Dietrich shrugged. "I have been happy accepting you and the rest of the Rats as my family. Ironic, right?"

Tully nodded. "I don't want to do anything that you're not comfortable with. I do think, at the very least, you should hear Markus out and decide afterward whether or not you want to change things."

"That is the problem, Tully, I do not know if I want to hear him out. You are right. I should, but there is a part of me that does not want to."

Well, we're getting somewhere, somewhat. It's a starting point. "You haven't talked much about your brothers. I don't blame you if you don't—"

"No, I should talk more about what happened, but at the same time, I feel that will just make me angrier."

Tully looked down at his glass as he thought. "There's a way we can do this, but, again, I don't want to push you to do something you're not ready for."

Dietrich nodded. "It feels selfish to say that I am mostly concerned with my own wellbeing."

"With everything you've been through, it makes sense. None of us want to see you go backward, and nobody should have to be around people who make them miserable if they can help it." Tully hesitated on his next thought, but said it anyway. "Especially if that misery can lead to… something irreversible."

Dietrich stared down at the kitchen counter, looking deep in thought. He sighed heavily. "I suppose this is something we will not reach a solution for right away."

"I never thought we would, sir." Tully finished his tea. "We can leave it alone for a bit and come back to it later." He looked around for a moment, and couldn't resist asking, "Can I see the baby?"

"I had a feeling that would come sooner or later." Dietrich grinned a little. "Esther is upstairs nursing him. I will let her know that you would like to see Gunther. Feel free to take whatever you want from the kitchen."

"Thanks." Tully stood when Dietrich headed upstairs, and poured himself another glass of tea. When he put the pitcher back in the fridge, he noticed a piece of paper on the counter under the cupboard. On it was an address and telephone number, in handwriting that Tully knew wasn't Dietrich's or Esther's. That must be from his brother, Tully thought. Part of him really wanted to see things change between Dietrich and his blood family, but he understood that it was possible that it just wasn't meant to happen. What'll be the best thing for Dietrich? That's what I have to consider here.

He heard someone coming downstairs, and turned to see Dietrich holding an infant. A grin spread across Tully's face as he gently took Gunther. "Well, hello, there. Look at how big you're getting." His smile widened when the baby smiled back at him. "You keeping Mom and Dad busy? Yeah? You charming them with how cute you are?"

"To say that he has been a handful for the last three months would be an understatement," Dietrich said.

"Well, this is the easy part, because this is when they sleep most of the time. Once they learn to walk and talk… good luck."

"I will manage." Dietrich carefully took Gunther. "Alright. Speaking of sleep, you saw Uncle Tully, now it is time for you to take a nap."

Tully watched Dietrich go back upstairs, and turned to look out the window at the backyard while waiting. He looked over his shoulder when Dietrich came back downstairs.

The skinny German took a light jacket from a hook by the door. "I am going outside for a cigarette. You are welcome to join me."

Tully didn't smoke, but he joined Dietrich anyway after topping off his iced tea. Out on the patio, Dietrich moved his chair into the sun, saying, "Within a few weeks, it will be a bit too cold to do this."

"Yep. Fall's a great time of year, though."

"Yes, indeed." Dietrich took out his lighter and a pack of cigarettes. "That was the worst part about North Africa. Technically, there are seasons, and I am sure Moffitt could talk your ears off about them, but it always felt like there was only one. There was a monotony to it. What I usually associated with certain times of the year did not exist."

Tully nodded. "Stark contrast to the perpetual snow when we were in Belgium in '44."

"The winter I spent in Pennsylvania was quite bitter." Dietrich became quiet, looking lost in thought. "It was strange, being the only man in camp not receiving any mail."

"Did Sarge ever tell you that he tried checking up on you when you were a POW?"

"No, he has not."

"Yep. He did. I remember him asking Captain Boggs about seeing if there was a way we could talk to you, but nothing ever came of it."

"I would imagine that would have gotten Troy branded a traitor."

"Nah. Boggs knew that there was something different about you. One of these days, I'll have to tell you the story about when he discovered Anah."

"Oh, that had to be… interesting."

Tully snorted. "Yeah. We kept Anah hidden because we were afraid we'd be told to get rid of her—I mean, that was kinda the unspoken policy when it came to snakes on the premises. Then again, at that time, Sarge kinda wanted to get rid of her. Long story short, Boggs sided with Moffitt about keeping her. I'll tell you the full story at some point. It's hilarious, but it is also weird how much has changed between Sarge and Anah."

Dietrich laughed. "And neither of them like to admit it!"

"Nope. Anah will be all cuddled up on Sarge and he'll be petting her and they'll both look you dead in the eye and say you're looking at an 'accident.'"

"Sometimes I wonder if they discuss that in private and get a good laugh to themselves out of trying to convince people they still despise each other."

"Well, someone's gotta tell them that it's not working anymore."

"No, it is not. Everyone knows the truth." Dietrich sighed, exhaling smoke and watching it disappear into the cool breeze that passed through. "Troy has told me that he feels Anah is the closest he will ever get to having a sister."

"They certainly act like brother and sister sometimes."

"Yes, but I find it greatly amusing that he has a more sibling-like relationship with a talking cobra than I do with my own actual brother."

"Anah will put grapefruit juice in Sarge's coffee, but that's about it as far as things she does that could be considered mean. She did go with him when he confronted his mama. Yeah, she's a snake, but there's a very human soul in her. She's been far kinder to Sarge than his own blood family was, apart from David. She's the one who got him to open up about it, after all."

Dietrich nodded, staring off in the distance while taking another draw on his cigarette. "I cannot imagine how difficult it was for Troy to work up the courage to talk to the person who hurt him so much."

"His own mother, no less. The person you'd least expect to be so… cold."

"Mine was quite cold, but that was throughout my life. Troy mentioned that things were good between him and his mother before his grandparents and father died. For lack of a better term, she betrayed him. She let grief consume her, and took everything out on him."

"Makes me grateful that my dad never acted that way after his accident. He was kinda depressed and bitter for a little while, but he found things to do and changed for the better. The sad part is that… it was because of the money I made running moonshine that allowed both my parents to be happier." A heavy feeling settled in Tully's chest. "That's why I kept doing it. It was better for everyone." He glanced down at his glass, and let out a sigh. "Sorry, sir, I'm supposed to be helping you."

"That is alright. There is always something to learn from another person's experiences, good or bad, and if you feel you need to discuss something, I am here to listen. It is the least I can do to pay you back for everything you all have done for me."

"I don't want you to feel like you owe us for that. We're just doing the right thing." Tully went quiet as he thought. He was trying to think of something else to do, but his thoughts kept looping back to Dietrich's dilemma. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt Dietrich, but he also felt the only way to determine the best path forward was to have Dietrich actually sit down and talk with his brother. He kept that to himself for now, and decided he would bring it up later.