Hints and Missing Lovers
Disclaimer: Same as before…
The night of the first of March would find Conrad journeying in slumber back to Fiddler's Green. As he strode out of the shade of the poplar trees that dotted the meadow, walking towards the red brick building he could hear the tune of Der Westerwaldlied.
"Heute wollen wir marschieren. Einen neuen Marsch probieren. In dem schönen Westerwald. Ja da pfeift der Wind so kalt." The lyrics echoed in company with clanging clatter of the out of tune piano as Conrad opened the door, "In dem schönen Westerwald. Ja da pfeift der Wind so kalt."
He could see half a dozen legionnaires in the uniform of the Indochina war of the 1950s clustered around the piano while a seventh legionnaire hammered at the keys. The legionnaires singing held mugs of ale in various stages of consumption.
"Another bloody Wehrmacht song?" Putman grumbled as Conrad stepped into the taven's smoky insides.
"It's not a bad tune," Conrad replied, heading over to the bar to order a pint for himself. Might as well join them.
"Oh, Du schöner Westerwald. Über Deine Höhen pfeift der Wind so kalt. Jedoch der kleinste Sonnenschein. Dringt tief ins Herz hinei…" a table full of legionnaires from World War II added their voices to the singing.
"What are we? The bloody Waffen-SS?" Putman grumbled.
"I would like to point out that the Wehrmacht and Waffen-SS were two different branches of the German military in the Second World War," Conrad replied, "And for better or worse they influenced the Legion."
"For fucks sake, not this again!" Ian groused as he sauntered over, a half empty beer mug in one hand and his kepi worn at a rakish angle, "Hart, it's bad enough your first unit was that sodding Kampfgruppe Wasner, but do you have to keep singing those sodding German tunes?"
"Anything to ward off cafard," Conrad countered.
"Und die Gretel und der Hans. Gehn des Sonntags gern zum Tanz. Weil das Tanzen Freude macht. Und das Herz im Leibe lacht," A quartet of legionnaires from the 1920s sounded off as a fifth man from their number drunkenly danced with a barmaid, "Weil das Tanzen Freude macht. Und das Herz im Leibe lacht."
"True enough," Ian conceded.
"But what about that whole bloody Wehrmacht and Waffen-SS bit?" Putman asked, after taking a long slug of beer from his mug, "Especially how they influenced the Legion?"
"The combat experience veterans of both services brought to the table meant that Foreign Legion units in battle stood a better chance of surviving in Indochina and Algeria," Conrad replied.
"Oh, Du schöner Westerwald. Über Deine Höhen pfeift der Wind so kalt. Jedoch der kleinste Sonnenschein. Dringt tief ins Herz hinei…" The cluster of legionnaires around the piano bellowed, waving beer mugs.
"You do bring up a good point, Hart," Ian said, raising his voice to be heard.
"However accepting ex-Wehrmacht and Waffen-SS blokes into the Legion did bring some bad traits in as well," Putman replied, "For instance some strains of racism, which you can see sometimes the treatment of les Africains, even those who do join the Legion...me being a case in point."
"And, Putman, you do bring up a point," Conrad replied.
"Ist das Tanzen dann vorbei. Gibt es meistens Keilerei. Und dem Bursch, den das nicht freut, sagt man nach, er hat kein' Schneid," Van Pelt called out. He was drinking with a trio of legionnaires from the Indochina era.
"Und dem Bursch, den das nicht freut, sagt man nach, er hat kein' Schneid!" Van Pelt's three mates echoed.
"Well it certainly lends credence to the rumors that Van Pelt ran with a rather dodgy group of skinheads before he joined the Legion," Putman grumbled as he took a pull of his beer.
"Look, I know the two of you butted heads," Conrad replied, "But let's not forget Van Pelt saved your life at Boot Hill."
Putman shuddered at the memory, "That bloody first battle with Cobra's Iron Grenadiers."
"When they really took the Central African Republic campaign seriously," Ian added with a somber look.
"Look at the one bloke's sleeve, though," Putman remarked, indicating one of the legionnaires with Van Pelt.
Conrad did look over and noticed that on the 1950s pattern French army camouflage of the legionnaire in question was cuffband that read Das Reich.
"That's a dead giveaway that the bloke was a member of the 2nd SS Panzer Division, Das Reich," Putman whispered.
"In any case, Putman, the song is about marching through the mountains and forests of the Westerwald region of Germany. Hardly the Horsst Wessel," Conrad replied, before taking down a drink of his own beer.
"Let's not forget that verse Van Pelt is singing is about fighting," Putman countered.
"True," Conrad replied, "But it's a soldier's song. Of course it will contain references to fighting."
"That's what legionnaires do, Putman," Ian grinned before draining his mug of beer, "Be it scrapping with one another or having a go at the enemy."
"Oh, Du schöner Westerwald. Über Deine Höhen pfeift der Wind so kalt. Jedoch der kleinste Sonnenschein. Dringt tief ins Herz hinei…" The group at the piano sang at the top of their lungs as the fellow that had been drunkenly dancing with the barmaid keeled face forward into the floor to the chorus of raucous laughter from his mates.
The finishing notes of Der Westerwaldlied echoed through the tavern as Conrad felt his surroundings fade.
The Pit, Officer's Quarters
Kate Todd and Conrad Hart
02 March 2002, 0514
Kate yawned as she headed into the kitchen with her laptop tucked under her arm. She saw Conrad preparing a pot of coffee, lightly singing a tune.
"Oh, Du schöner Westerwald. Über Deine Höhen pfeift der Wind so kalt. Jedoch der kleinste Sonnenschein. Dringt tief ins Herz hinei…"
"The Westerwaldlied?" Kate asked.
Conrad nodded, and with a faint grin said, "Tres bien, mademoiselle."
"Let me guess, our conversation yesterday put this song on your mind?" Kate asked as she reached up into a nearby cabinet to grab her coffee mug.
"Partially," Conrad replied, "And a visit to Fiddler's Green."
"Fiddler's Green?" Kate asked.
"Call me crazy, but sometimes when I dream I visit a meadow with plentiful poplar trees as shade. And in this meadow is a cantina called Fiddler's Green. It's a place where the shades of all Legionnaires encamp. Beer and spirits flow freely, wounds, age and infirmity fade, it's a Legionnaire's Elysium," Conrad replied softly.
"I assume your friends from Commando Depuis are the as well?" Kate asked as the coffee pot finished percolating.
Conrad nodded, "And yes, the Westerwaldlied was sung loudly."
"Conrad, I don't think you're crazy at all," Kate replied, "You're hoping your friends found some sort of peace in the afterlife. Just out of curiosity, what is Fiddler's Green? I've heard of it somewhere before."
"I remember there's a poem called Fiddler's Green," Conrad replied, "It's a US Cavalry poem based on a sailor's legend of the afterlife."
"Where I'm sure booze flows freely and of course pleasant company is there to have?" Kate asked, with a wry smile.
"Yes, actually," Conrad replied with a tired smile in reply, "Possibly Shipwreck's interpretation of the ideal afterlife."
Kate chuckled despite herself, before turning her head to look out the kitchen window.
"What's going on?" Conrad asked.
"Look out the window," Kate replied.
Conrad turned his head, "Unless the Pit somehow gained a population of feral parrots overnight, I'd say that's Polly flying by."
"Huh, wonder what he could be up to?" Kate asked.
Delgato Residence
Althea Delgato and Shipwreck
01 March 2002, 1930
"Where is he? Where are they keeping him?" Althea demanded, tears rolling down her cheeks.
"Althea," Shipwreck replied, as he took his daughter by the hand, leading her towards the sofa in their living room, "Calm down."
"Don't tell me to calm down!" Althea snapped, "It's been three days! I haven't seen him since the Generals' meeting. What happened to him?"
"Althea…" Shipwreck began.
"The last thing I heard was that Hawk was talking to him for hours and then he just disappeared," Althea replied, digging her heels.
After a brief sob and a hiccup, she added, "He's at the dojo, isn't he? That's why I haven't had a lesson there. Right?"
"Althea," Shipwreck began, as he guided his daughter to the sofa and sat down beside her, "You just have to calm down and accept the fact that you can't see him right now."
"Why?" Althea cried out, "Why won't they let me see him?"
"Remember what I told you about your mother? How she was experimented on?" Shipwreck asked.
Althea nodded, tears in her eyes. A choked sob was followed by a hiccup.
"Well, the same thing happened to Todd," Shipwreck replied, taking his daughter's hand.
"Who did that to him?" Althea sniffed.
"We're not sure…" Shipwreck began.
"You do know," Althea countered.
"It's not my place to tell you," Shipwreck replied.
"I knew he had nightmares and a lot of bad stuff happened to him in foster homes," Althea sighed, shaking her head, "But…"
Shipwreck squeezed his daughter's hand, before pulling her close to him with his other arm. Althea asked, "What are they doing to him now?"
"It's kind of complicated," Shipwreck replied, "Stormshadow is giving him special training as well as Psyche-Out working with him. He's really going through a rough time."
"But…" Althea began.
"Listen," Shipwreck replied, "It's nothing personal. He just doesn't want to face anyone right now. He's hurting really bad. He's ashamed."
"Why? It wasn't his fault!" Althea replied with a sniffle, "It doesn't make any sense!"
"It's a pride thing," Shipwreck said with a shrug.
"But I want to help him!" Althea cried out, "I can help him!"
"Right now the best thing you can do is let him work through this on his own," Shipwreck told her.
"It was Magneto and Mystique that did this to him, wasn't it?" Althea asked.
Shipwreck nodded. "Honey just give him him time. When he's ready, he'll let you know."
Althea looked at him and said nothing. She stood up from the couch, walked up the stairs to her bedroom.
She walked in, not closing the door totally, and flopped down on her bed. She heard the flapping of wings and saw Polly flying into the room and landing beside her.
"Awk! Little swabbie okay?" Polly said as he landed on her bed.
"No," Althea sighed.
"Polly help?"
"No there's…" Althea began before suddenly sitting up.
"Awk?"
"Actually, yes! There's something you can do! Come on bird!"
"Awk! Me and my big beak!" Polly sighed.
The Pit, Officer's Quarters
Kate Todd and Conrad Hart
02 March 2002, 0537
Conrad walked over to the kitchen table to grab his cell phone. As he reached over Kate grabbed his wrist. He glanced over at Kate inquisitively.
"Somebody's got to let Shipwreck know his bird's flying around loose, mademoiselle," Conrad replied.
"Not just yet, Conrad," Kate replied with a smile.
"I hope what passes for Animal Control around here doesn't catch him," Conrad smirked as he felt what he could only describe as an electric charge running through his arm. He glanced downward to see Kate's hand still on his wrist.
They looked at one another, eye to eye for a moment before quickly parting. Doesn't help that I find this woman quite attractive. Conrad thought to himself. The last thing I need is the complication of being smitten.
"Ahem," Conrad replied, "As I was saying, I hope the ack ack doesn't get Polly."
"Ack ack?" Kate asked.
"Slang for antiaircraft artillery," Conrad replied.
"Knowing this place I wouldn't be surprised if they did use antiaircraft artillery as a form of animal control," Kate replied with a smirk as she reached over for her windbreaker.
"Wait, you're following that bird?" Conrad asked.
"Just because we're not calling Shipwreck doesn't mean we shouldn't try and see where this bird is going."
"C'est vrai, mademoiselle," Conrad replied, grabbing his own jacket, "So what piqued your curiosity?"
"Call it a feeling," Kate replied with a smile on her face.
Conrad followed her out the door and down the hall and stairs before heading outside. As they walked Kate heard Conrad whistling a tune she hadn't heard before. It had that same jaunty yet martial air a lot of the songs she knew he liked.
"What are you whistling?" Kate asked.
"Morgen Marcshieren Wir," Conrad replied, "It's an old Wehrmacht song that translates as Tomorrow We March. It's a soldier saying goodbye to his sweetheart."
"Interesting," Kate replied. Wonder if it's referring to a sweetheart he misses? There was a certain wistfulness in how he replied.
"It and Der Westerwaldlied are my favorites," Conrad replied.
"Any reasons why?" Kate asked. I'm especially curious about Morgen Marschieren Wir.
"They're both lively, jaunty tunes, perfect for warding off la cafard," Conrad shrugged, "And I found the themes of Morgen Marschieren Wir to be heartening and moving."
"How so?" Kate asked.
"In the song the soldier sings of a sweetheart that will miss him dearly at the front when he marches off the next morning. For three of the five verses he speaks of trying to console his sweetheart because he can't stay with her," Conrad replied as they followed Polly.
"That seems so sweet and sad," Kate replied. When Tim goes back to the regular Marine Corps I can only imagine how I'm going to feel when he goes on deployment. Especially to Iraq or Afghanistan,.
"To me the last verse is most poignant," Conrad replied, "It translates as: 'Sweetheart I love you true. But be married, I can not do. Wait for me a year. Then when we are near. We'll be quite a pair!' Gets me misty eyed sometimes."
Kate smiled warmly, "I had no idea you were such a romantic."
"As a wise man once said, the greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return," Conrad replied. God that smile of hers…
"Nice reference to both the Moulin Rouge and the Bohemian movement," Kate replied. There's a lot more to this guy than meets the eye. There's something emotionally wounded about the man.
"The movie was a bit melodramatic for my liking, but I do see a lot to like in the Bohemian ideals: Truth, Beauty, Freedom, and Love," Conrad replied.
"No offense, Conrad, but Bohemian is the last word I would use to describe you," Kate replied with astonishment as they followed Polly's path through a forested glade.
"None taken, mademoiselle," Conrad smirked.
"What do you think of love?" Kate asked.
"As I've said before, in my experience wonderful things and painful things result from it at the same time," Conrad replied, emotion tinging his voice.
There's definitely a tone of loss there. Maybe regret. Kate felt the tightness in her chest. Why do you care so much?
"Conrad, whatever it was, I'm so sorry," Kate replied, walking up to him and giving him a hug.
The ex-Legionnaire looked a bit taken aback, but rallied and returned Kate's kind hug. After a few moments they let go. That was very kind of her.
"I'll tell you a little more later, mademoiselle, but as it stands we have a parrot to follow," Conrad replied softly.
After picking up the pace Conrad turned to Kate and said, "I don't know about you but don't you recognize the route?"
"You're right," Kate replied, "This path leads toward the Ninja Dojo."
The Pit, Ninja Dojo
Todd Tolansky and Stormshadow
02 March 2002, 0604
Todd stood in the darkened dojo, dressed entirely in black. His eyes were closed as if in deep thought. Suddenly a dozen arrows flew straight for him. His eyes flew open, and he dodged eleven of them easily. The twelfth he caught in his hand.
Quickly he hurled it at a target in the wall. It missed the bullseye, impacting into the wall.
"ARGH!" Todd groaned with exasperation.
"Patience," Stormshadow said as he came out of the shadows.
"But…" Todd began.
Stormshadow held up a hand, "You have gained so much in a short amount of time. One does not become a master the day one starts as a pupil."
"I still failed," Todd groaned, hanging his head. At least here they don't hit me for failing.
"Sometimes failure can be more instructive than success," Stormshadow replied.
Todd's face scrunched up with confusion as he removed his ninja mask, "I thought there was no room for failure."
"On missions, no. Training, however, is another matter," Stormshadow said calmly, "You must learn how to turn failure in here into success out there. Your arm is too forward when you throw. You must limit its movement slightly."
Stormshadow pulled one of the eleven arrows Todd had caught off of the floor and threw it. The arrow thudded into the bullseye, quivering slightly.
"Shall I do it again, Sensei?" Todd asked.
"That will be enough for now," Stormshadow nodded. "Go meditate in the garden. You must focus your mind. Next time you will be ready."
Todd bowed and exited the dojo into the courtyard garden. He picked a spot underneath a bonsai tree, near an artfully constructed waterfall. He sat down, cross legged, closing his eyes, forcing his mind to become blank. Or more like attempting to do so...
Seeing Mommy lying on the ground. Her eyes were open, but there was no spark in them. No longer would he see that warm affection she reserved only for her little boy...no longer...since his father had his hands around her neck and was squeezing.
Mommy had been yelling. Now Mommy wasn't yelling. She had been squirming, scratching. Now Mommy wasn't moving and…
Todd opened his eyes, breathing hard. The sound of wings flapping overhead helped to distract him from that eight year old memory. He looked upward to see a green and yellow parrot flying overhead.
"Awk! Special Delivery!" Polly cawed as he flew in a circle around Todd's head. Then he dropped an envelope from his feet.
Todd caught the note and opened it. As he read it, he felt tears stream into his eyes.
Todd,
They won't let me see you, but they can't stop me from writing you! I know what Magneto, Mystique, and all those monsters did to you! It's not your fault! You have no idea how much I want to tell you that in person.
I know we've only known each other a short time, but it feels like I'm losing my best friend. I miss you! I want to help you but I don't know what to do! Please Todd, tell me what I have to do to have you come back to me!
Althea
P.S. If you need me to bust you out or something, let me know, okay?
Wiping his eyes and sniffling Todd re-read the note. His heart skipping a beat he looked up, seeing Polly circling overhead he called out, "Listen bird! I want you to take a message…"
To Be Continued...