‹ Prequel: Flucht
Status: 2.0.
Tommy Guns
drei
By the time February marched around, the winter weather had started to give away to spring breezes. As the temperature started to rise and the snow turned to slush around his boots, Ruedi found himself inundated with fresh bodies. Young or old, alive or dying, his orders were simply to patch them up and send them back to the front lines. At first, the flow of fresh injuries was manageable – there were two assistants that Ruedi shared with the other senior doctor; an elderly gentleman who looked as if he should have been anywhere other than a military operation – but as time passed and staff were stretched between the front and the camps, Ruedi was forced to pull double shift after double shift in order to keep up with demand.
With Ruedi so busy, Felix was left to fester in his own thoughts. Ruedi had tried to ignore the increasing frostiness in the conversations they’d been having but as the month progressed, it was almost impossible for the younger man to pretend that he didn’t notice Felix becoming increasingly distant. Ruedi knew Felix had his reasons – after all, it couldn’t be easy watching young men die on orders coming from his mouth – but he couldn’t help but feel a rush of bubbling anger every time the pair sat silently side-by-side, avoiding eye contact and refusing to accept the mind-set of the other.
Ruedi knew they were worlds apart now – Felix sent men to their deaths with heartfelt words of apology and Ruedi brought them back with careless fingers – and that neither would understand the thoughts and feelings of the other. The wedge that was driven between the two was wide enough to cause an almost irreparable rift between the pair; a rift that made Ruedi wish that they had something, anything that they could discuss that wasn’t work. But normal conversation was difficult to come by when the world was falling apart at the seams, and Ruedi spent most of the remnants of winter silently cursing the government for forcing the choice of enlistment upon them both.
Of course, neither could stay mad at the other for very long. Not when the threat of death lingered in the back of their minds every single waking hour of every single day.
It was a particularly balmy night by anybody’s standards when Felix, to Ruedi’s great relief, first showed signs of thawing. Ruedi had shrugged off the thick woollen blanket he had been given to survive the winter in favour of a thinner, lighter model that he had stolen from the medical supplies when Felix came storming in. He had almost tripped over the discarded blanket in his haste.
“Hello.”
Ruedi barely looked up from the book he was reading. There was little point – Felix would make stilted attempts at conversation and Ruedi would only find himself getting more and more wound up. Eye contact just made everything worse. Besides, it was almost midnight and by all accounts, the two should have been asleep long ago. So, when Felix’s hand – cold hands, Felix always had cold hands – closed over his own and forced the book onto his lap, Ruedi was thoroughly taken aback.
“Can’t sleep.”
“Why? Nightmares?” Reudi didn’t bother moving Felix’s hand from his own. They were safe here – nobody bothered to check on the medical staff after lights-out, and Ruedi was thankful to be one of the only men in the camp with his own space, shared with nothing other than the shrill buzzing of mosquito wings around the lamp that shone dimly in the corner. Resting the book gently against the bed, Ruedi grasped Felix’s hand properly in his own. Felix’s palms were slick with sweat and when he looked up, his face was the same. It may have been warm enough to start shedding winter layers, but it wasn’t warm enough to produce the droplets of perspiration that were rolling down the sides of Felix’s nose. In the half-light, he looked exhausted. His eyes, once bright and full of vigour, were dulled and bloodshot from lack of sleep. The dark circles under his eyes seemed to go on forever, and he was beginning to develop tiny hairline wrinkles around his mouth. Ruedi had seen the same happening right across camp – stronger men than Felix were turning into old men before their time, turning them into robots with hauntingly empty eyes and a regimented step.
Yes, the war was aging Felix well beyond his years.
Nodding in response to Ruedi’s questions, Felix let out a shaky breath. “They won’t stop. Every time I close my eyes, those damn Allied bastards are everywhere. I can’t sleep, because every time I do they’re there. Behind my eyelids. And I know I haven’t been the nicest person to be around lately, but I can’t deal with this. I need you.”
“C’mere,” Ruedi muttered in reply, wrapping an arm around Felix’s shoulder. The second his arm touched him, Felix seemed to crumble into nothingness, burying his head into Ruedi’s neck and letting out a dry sob. “It’ll be okay. Everything’ll be okay. We’ll be okay.”
Ruedi wasn’t even sure if anything would be okay, but pretending was the only solace he had managed to gain from the phrase. For the most part, both men were functioning cogs of a well-oiled machine; during daylight hours both men simply got in with their jobs. Ruedi would perform miracles in order to bring people back from the brink of death, feeling like he was invincible and ready to take on the world. Felix would march his men into battle – young, impressionable teens that would doubtlessly turn on him in a heartbeat if they were to find out who he really was. It was only when the sun went down that they would fall apart and they would both realise that what they were doing was altogether terribly dangerous and wrong. It was in these moments that Ruedi would yearn for Felix’s company, not for conversation but simply for a familiar presence, some semblance of their old lives to hold onto like a dying ember of hope. Hope was all that he had left mow that Hitler’s great Nazi empire had torn his life to shreds.
Sometimes, Ruedi wished he could take out a gun and place a bullet firmly between the Führer’s eyes.
Felix was crying now, small, silent sobs that sent tremors through his entire body. Placing his chin gently on Felix’s head, Ruedi rocked him slowly back and forth. He had no idea if it was helping – his mother had used the exact same technique when he was younger to comfort him when he had ran to her with terrifying tales of monsters from his own nightmares. Felix’s nightmares weren’t fictional, though, nor were they as childlike as his own, but Ruedi didn’t know what else to do.
“You’re okay. We’re alive. You’re okay.”
There was no reply other than the occasional sniffle. For what felt like a lifetime, Ruedi sat with his arm around Felix’s shoulders and his lips pressed firmly to Felix’s forehead. It was dangerous, sitting here together. Were anybody to walk in and find the two of them entwined as they were, there would be repercussions well beyond dishonourable discharge. In fact, Ruedi would be surprised if the pair weren’t shot on sight; such was the will of the German government. Shoot the gays and the disease wouldn’t spread. It was laughable, really.
After almost ten minutes of sitting in silence, Felix had started to stop shaking. His shoulders were set once again, and although he kept his face buried in the crook of Ruedi’s neck, he was no longer crying. Slowly, Ruedi untangled himself and stood up. Felix’s eyes followed him as he picked up the blanket he had discarded earlier. Crumpling it into a ball, he handed it to Felix, who simply stared with bloodshot eyes at the offering.
“You can sleep here tonight,” Ruedi explained, looking over his shoulder at the entrance to his quarters. There was no movement outside, and no shadows lurked around, waiting to report them to their superiors. Safety. “If anybody asks, I’ll tell them you had the beginnings of a fever and I was monitoring you to ensure you were safe. I’m not leaving you alone. Not when you’re like this.”
Felix seemed to weigh up his options, glancing towards the door and then back to Ruedi’s outstretched hand. Sighing elaborately, he accepted the blanket, hugging it close to his chest.
“This is risky and you know it.”
“Don’t care.” Ruedi strode over to the bed, picking up the heavy medical journal and throwing it haphazardly on a pile of books strewn across his desk. “Nobody suspects us anyway. We’re safe.”
Felix looked to the door again, eyes wide and uneasy. He had always been the more nervous of the two, scared that even the smallest interaction would give their secret up.
“Look,” Ruedi sighed as he sat down beside Felix, bed sinking slightly beneath the combined weight of the pair, “I can give you an acetaminophen injection if you’re really concerned. It’ll show on the medical inventory and I can give you paperwork to take to the Generalleutnant in the morning. It’ll be foolproof.”
“I…” Felix chewed on his bottom lip for a moment or two before he relented. “Okay. Yes.”
Ruedi nodded curtly, grabbing a spare syringe. He would have to go to the storage cupboards to get the tiny vial of acetaminophen, but that could be done at any point. Nobody else frequented the medical storage, and it wasn’t as if they had a shortage of the stuff. Most men with fever didn’t last long enough to receive the drug and if it meant that he could keep an eye on Felix for the evening, then it was worth the risk. Rummaging around, he started to look for the medical inventory forms that would serve as their cover for the evening.
“Rueds?”
Ruedi turned absent-mindedly from his desk. “Mm?”
“You’ll be here all night, right? In case they come back?”
Ruedi didn’t have to ask who they were. “Of course. I’ll be right beside you all night. If you need me, just wake me up. I don’t mind.”
It was silent for a few moments. Ruedi could hear the shrill buzzing of insects around the lamp, could hear Felix scratch at his unshaven jawline for a few seconds. In the distance, he could have sworn that he heard the chatter of gunfire; that familiar rat-tat of metal exiting a chamber. Tomorrow would be a long day – Ruedi had no doubt that the steady flow of casualties would only increase as the combat continued. War stopped for nobody, not even the innocent.
“Rueds?”
“What, Felix?”
“I love you. We don’t say that enough anymore.”
“I know. I love you too.”
With Ruedi so busy, Felix was left to fester in his own thoughts. Ruedi had tried to ignore the increasing frostiness in the conversations they’d been having but as the month progressed, it was almost impossible for the younger man to pretend that he didn’t notice Felix becoming increasingly distant. Ruedi knew Felix had his reasons – after all, it couldn’t be easy watching young men die on orders coming from his mouth – but he couldn’t help but feel a rush of bubbling anger every time the pair sat silently side-by-side, avoiding eye contact and refusing to accept the mind-set of the other.
Ruedi knew they were worlds apart now – Felix sent men to their deaths with heartfelt words of apology and Ruedi brought them back with careless fingers – and that neither would understand the thoughts and feelings of the other. The wedge that was driven between the two was wide enough to cause an almost irreparable rift between the pair; a rift that made Ruedi wish that they had something, anything that they could discuss that wasn’t work. But normal conversation was difficult to come by when the world was falling apart at the seams, and Ruedi spent most of the remnants of winter silently cursing the government for forcing the choice of enlistment upon them both.
Of course, neither could stay mad at the other for very long. Not when the threat of death lingered in the back of their minds every single waking hour of every single day.
It was a particularly balmy night by anybody’s standards when Felix, to Ruedi’s great relief, first showed signs of thawing. Ruedi had shrugged off the thick woollen blanket he had been given to survive the winter in favour of a thinner, lighter model that he had stolen from the medical supplies when Felix came storming in. He had almost tripped over the discarded blanket in his haste.
“Hello.”
Ruedi barely looked up from the book he was reading. There was little point – Felix would make stilted attempts at conversation and Ruedi would only find himself getting more and more wound up. Eye contact just made everything worse. Besides, it was almost midnight and by all accounts, the two should have been asleep long ago. So, when Felix’s hand – cold hands, Felix always had cold hands – closed over his own and forced the book onto his lap, Ruedi was thoroughly taken aback.
“Can’t sleep.”
“Why? Nightmares?” Reudi didn’t bother moving Felix’s hand from his own. They were safe here – nobody bothered to check on the medical staff after lights-out, and Ruedi was thankful to be one of the only men in the camp with his own space, shared with nothing other than the shrill buzzing of mosquito wings around the lamp that shone dimly in the corner. Resting the book gently against the bed, Ruedi grasped Felix’s hand properly in his own. Felix’s palms were slick with sweat and when he looked up, his face was the same. It may have been warm enough to start shedding winter layers, but it wasn’t warm enough to produce the droplets of perspiration that were rolling down the sides of Felix’s nose. In the half-light, he looked exhausted. His eyes, once bright and full of vigour, were dulled and bloodshot from lack of sleep. The dark circles under his eyes seemed to go on forever, and he was beginning to develop tiny hairline wrinkles around his mouth. Ruedi had seen the same happening right across camp – stronger men than Felix were turning into old men before their time, turning them into robots with hauntingly empty eyes and a regimented step.
Yes, the war was aging Felix well beyond his years.
Nodding in response to Ruedi’s questions, Felix let out a shaky breath. “They won’t stop. Every time I close my eyes, those damn Allied bastards are everywhere. I can’t sleep, because every time I do they’re there. Behind my eyelids. And I know I haven’t been the nicest person to be around lately, but I can’t deal with this. I need you.”
“C’mere,” Ruedi muttered in reply, wrapping an arm around Felix’s shoulder. The second his arm touched him, Felix seemed to crumble into nothingness, burying his head into Ruedi’s neck and letting out a dry sob. “It’ll be okay. Everything’ll be okay. We’ll be okay.”
Ruedi wasn’t even sure if anything would be okay, but pretending was the only solace he had managed to gain from the phrase. For the most part, both men were functioning cogs of a well-oiled machine; during daylight hours both men simply got in with their jobs. Ruedi would perform miracles in order to bring people back from the brink of death, feeling like he was invincible and ready to take on the world. Felix would march his men into battle – young, impressionable teens that would doubtlessly turn on him in a heartbeat if they were to find out who he really was. It was only when the sun went down that they would fall apart and they would both realise that what they were doing was altogether terribly dangerous and wrong. It was in these moments that Ruedi would yearn for Felix’s company, not for conversation but simply for a familiar presence, some semblance of their old lives to hold onto like a dying ember of hope. Hope was all that he had left mow that Hitler’s great Nazi empire had torn his life to shreds.
Sometimes, Ruedi wished he could take out a gun and place a bullet firmly between the Führer’s eyes.
Felix was crying now, small, silent sobs that sent tremors through his entire body. Placing his chin gently on Felix’s head, Ruedi rocked him slowly back and forth. He had no idea if it was helping – his mother had used the exact same technique when he was younger to comfort him when he had ran to her with terrifying tales of monsters from his own nightmares. Felix’s nightmares weren’t fictional, though, nor were they as childlike as his own, but Ruedi didn’t know what else to do.
“You’re okay. We’re alive. You’re okay.”
There was no reply other than the occasional sniffle. For what felt like a lifetime, Ruedi sat with his arm around Felix’s shoulders and his lips pressed firmly to Felix’s forehead. It was dangerous, sitting here together. Were anybody to walk in and find the two of them entwined as they were, there would be repercussions well beyond dishonourable discharge. In fact, Ruedi would be surprised if the pair weren’t shot on sight; such was the will of the German government. Shoot the gays and the disease wouldn’t spread. It was laughable, really.
After almost ten minutes of sitting in silence, Felix had started to stop shaking. His shoulders were set once again, and although he kept his face buried in the crook of Ruedi’s neck, he was no longer crying. Slowly, Ruedi untangled himself and stood up. Felix’s eyes followed him as he picked up the blanket he had discarded earlier. Crumpling it into a ball, he handed it to Felix, who simply stared with bloodshot eyes at the offering.
“You can sleep here tonight,” Ruedi explained, looking over his shoulder at the entrance to his quarters. There was no movement outside, and no shadows lurked around, waiting to report them to their superiors. Safety. “If anybody asks, I’ll tell them you had the beginnings of a fever and I was monitoring you to ensure you were safe. I’m not leaving you alone. Not when you’re like this.”
Felix seemed to weigh up his options, glancing towards the door and then back to Ruedi’s outstretched hand. Sighing elaborately, he accepted the blanket, hugging it close to his chest.
“This is risky and you know it.”
“Don’t care.” Ruedi strode over to the bed, picking up the heavy medical journal and throwing it haphazardly on a pile of books strewn across his desk. “Nobody suspects us anyway. We’re safe.”
Felix looked to the door again, eyes wide and uneasy. He had always been the more nervous of the two, scared that even the smallest interaction would give their secret up.
“Look,” Ruedi sighed as he sat down beside Felix, bed sinking slightly beneath the combined weight of the pair, “I can give you an acetaminophen injection if you’re really concerned. It’ll show on the medical inventory and I can give you paperwork to take to the Generalleutnant in the morning. It’ll be foolproof.”
“I…” Felix chewed on his bottom lip for a moment or two before he relented. “Okay. Yes.”
Ruedi nodded curtly, grabbing a spare syringe. He would have to go to the storage cupboards to get the tiny vial of acetaminophen, but that could be done at any point. Nobody else frequented the medical storage, and it wasn’t as if they had a shortage of the stuff. Most men with fever didn’t last long enough to receive the drug and if it meant that he could keep an eye on Felix for the evening, then it was worth the risk. Rummaging around, he started to look for the medical inventory forms that would serve as their cover for the evening.
“Rueds?”
Ruedi turned absent-mindedly from his desk. “Mm?”
“You’ll be here all night, right? In case they come back?”
Ruedi didn’t have to ask who they were. “Of course. I’ll be right beside you all night. If you need me, just wake me up. I don’t mind.”
It was silent for a few moments. Ruedi could hear the shrill buzzing of insects around the lamp, could hear Felix scratch at his unshaven jawline for a few seconds. In the distance, he could have sworn that he heard the chatter of gunfire; that familiar rat-tat of metal exiting a chamber. Tomorrow would be a long day – Ruedi had no doubt that the steady flow of casualties would only increase as the combat continued. War stopped for nobody, not even the innocent.
“Rueds?”
“What, Felix?”
“I love you. We don’t say that enough anymore.”
“I know. I love you too.”