The Boy in Black, page 30
I made my way out of the trenches and regrouped with our army. I was shaking, but I tried not to let any of the soldiers see. I wanted to find Earnst and tell him about it, but I hadn’t seen him at all for the rest of the day. I breathed heavily and began moving with the soldiers and tanks, trying to think of anything but Sergeant Shödler. I thought of Mother, Edith, Father, Oskar, Nikolai, Alina, and yet despite all the heartache they induced, Sergeant Shödler was still lurking in the background.
Concentration Camp
I laugh because the soldiers that walk these corridors are becoming far more insane than those that are stuck here. I laugh because they are becoming far more homesick than the prisoners here. I laugh because, in a turn of sweet poetic justice, the soldiers are breaking down, crumbling as they yearn to be free – and the prisoners push on.
I find it ironic, nay, bittersweet that such an occurrence has come to light. The savagery of these beasts that lurk around the corners is never ending. I was built for the very purpose that I serve today. But I was not only to hold the prisoners, labourers, or other names they may be called – I was to break them. But as time goes on, I rust and I crumble, and they, dare I say it, soldier on.
Perhaps I am getting less perpetually aggressive as I was meant to be – as I was. Perhaps, with the deterioration of my walls, I am becoming far more promising to exhibit sympathy. This, I do not oppose, yet nor do I show it boisterously. My exterior is still hardening to the eye, and my interior will still show nothing but the stone walls that enclose hundreds of men to be tightly compacted together. But as the soldiers become agitated, weary, and angry, I become more amused at the sight of it, for they now feel the pain of those they have kept locked away in here.
Some soldiers speak of the war outside of these walls. They want to join; they want to fight and gain more honour than they would walking backwards and forwards in these dreary corridors. They exchange information between one another of what they have heard from the outside world. Speaking of the soldiers that they know, fighting in a foreign land, and the troubles they find themselves in. And yet, despite this information of death and chaos, they still yearn to be in it.
Odd creatures, humans are. They destroy one another because of an indifference, and yet they still cry out for love and mercy from one another. What next, I ask?
Time is running out, I must admit. They may condemn so many to death, but Death will come for them soon enough. And what then? Everything they had hoped will be lost. Death comes for everyone, sooner or later, and the inevitability of its arrival is imminent. The man who wished the destruction of another is blind, for he thinks he can outmanoeuvre Death, but he is not immune.
And so, I watch upon with a growing tiredness that I cannot fight. Perhaps Death is on my own doorstep? Or closer than I think. Whichever it may be, perhaps my own demise is one of beauty in the eyes of a human, though it means I will no longer be. But for this, I am growing to be ready.
Chapter 31
August 28, 1942
My blood pumped furiously, and my bones ached and cracked. Exhaustion was getting the better of me – all of us – and the Russian soldiers seemed to be coming from everywhere. We were still miles from the city, fighting through wave after wave of Russian soldiers. They flooded the plains like a swarm, determined to their last breath. Civilians attacked us, too. The tank traps they had set spiked a sense of urgency in our army, with the officers sending forth soldiers to scout out the grounds before the tanks rolled on.
Just two days prior, we had been trapped, cordoned off by two separate groups of Russians. They came from the north and the east. To the west were farmlands, the openness being too much of an advantage for the Russians, and we couldn’t retreat south – the Führer would be furious had we even thought of retreating.
Our advantage was our tactics. The Russians sent in swarms of people, anyone – soldier or civilian – and they would be shot the moment they stood to run. Our tactics were what we had used throughout our whole time in Russian territory. We used what surroundings we could get to cover. While our soldiers at the front held off the oncoming Russians, separate groups were sent to attack from behind. Never did the Russians expect it, even though it was a crucial part of our offensive. Instead, they were surprised by the sudden appearance of German soldiers behind them, strenuously shooting rounds of bullets that cut through the air, some hitting our men and others travelling in the opposite direction.
Once we had gained the upper hand, it took only a short time to finally defeat them and move on. But our journey was still slow, and we had to get to the city quickly.
Each step I took, it felt as though I stood on razors, with the skin peeling from my feet and my soles raw. I gritted my teeth and tried not to show any pain. I kept walking and pretended that everything was fine – that’s what I had been doing this whole time, anyway. The tips of my toes had worn away, the once rough skin now delicate and painful.
‘Hans!’
I whipped around to see Earnst smiling. He hugged me and patted my back hard.
‘Earnst!’ I exclaimed. ‘Where the hell have you been?’
‘I thought you were dead, to be honest. I kept asking around, but no one had seen you.’ He sighed. ‘Shit, Hans. I really thought you were dead.’
I tilted my head back.
‘Says a lot about the soldiers here, then. Well, I’m still alive. I think, anyway.’
He chuckled.
‘I was sent to scout out anything ahead. We were gone for two days, sending messages back and forth to command. Where’s Felix?’
‘I thought he might have been with you,’ I said.
Earnst looked troubled.
‘You don’t think…?’
I shook my head.
‘No. Not at all. It would’ve been mentioned by someone in our group. But if you keep thinking like that, it won’t do you any better. I’m sure he’s fine. Ask around. They would probably know where he is – he’s better known by the soldiers than me.’
‘I don’t know about that. You’ve made quite a name for yourself among the men.’
‘Not a good one, I would imagine.’
Earnst cocked his head to one side and pouted his lips.
‘Some think your wit is something to be admired at. Some don’t. The ones that don’t are probably the ones that are on the receiving end of it. I wouldn’t worry too much. Everyone’s liked by some and disliked by others. It’s the way of life.’
‘I’m not worried. We’re all bound to each other by this uniform. It’s not like they can pull out their gun and shoot me dead in front of everyone.’
‘Throw you in the middle of the gunfire, perhaps, but not shoot you. Oh, no. We couldn’t have that now, could we?’
I looked at him, and a small smile showed in the corner of his mouth. I tried not to smile, but it came out anyway.
‘I suppose that’s true. But if I go, you’re coming with me,’ I joked.
‘It’s a deal then. So, how’s your leg, anyway?’
‘It hurts like hell,’ I replied, ‘My feet have begun to peel and they’re raw, and my leg aches each time I have to get down on the ground and then get back up again – which seems to be every second hour these past few days.’
‘Have they sent you to the nurses?’
I shook my head.
‘They said that supplies are too low to even consider sending me to the nurses. One of the officers said we need all the medical supplies we can get for what’s up ahead. They bandaged my leg and sent me away.’
‘They think it’s going to be that bad?’
‘Worse. And to top it off…’ I paused for a moment. ‘Sergeant Shödler is back.’
Earnst widened his eyes.
‘I thought the guy was dead, or gone for good, at least.’
‘He caught me when I was clearing out the trenches a few days ago. As soon as I saw him, my heart dropped. He tormented me, just standing in the trenches.’
‘What did he say to you?’
‘He threatened that he would kill me and make it look like a Russian had done the job. I saw him yesterday and avoided him, but it’s getting ridiculous to have to dodge him, rather than the oncoming bullets from the Russians. It’s like a living nightmare with him around. And what’s worse, he can tell me what to do if no commanding officer is around.’
‘I bet he hasn’t even seen a battle up close against these Russians. He would be hiding in his tent, cowering.’
‘Regardless of what he does, I don’t want to be anywhere near him. I…you know how I had the trouble of killing those soldiers?’
Earnst nodded.
‘And it’s nothing to be ashamed of.’
‘No, it isn’t that. I had so much trouble trying to shoot any of them, because I was afraid of taking their life, and a life away from their loved ones. But Sergeant Shödler… Earnst, if I could, I would put a gun to his head and pull the fucking trigger.’
Earnst looked around to make sure no one had heard and put his hand on my shoulder.
‘Just don’t say it aloud, Hans. We don’t want any soldier getting the wrong idea, and having you face the officers for saying that. But I think we’re safe in assuming that thought goes through every soldier’s head.’
‘I don’t even care. I want him to know it. I want him to know how easy it would be for me. The hell he has put me through, and the constant humiliation. I’m nothing to him, except for a means of entertainment.’
‘Hans, I know he makes you angry. He makes me angry just at how he treats you, and so I can’t even imagine what you feel towards him. But please, don’t say this to anyone, and especially not aloud. I don’t want you to end up killed for being a loudmouth. Please?’
I broke my stare from ahead.
‘I won’t. It’s fine.’
‘Good,’ replied Earnst, nodding. ‘Good.’
We continued walking, mostly in silence, but a few words were spoken that broke it up. When you’ve said everything there is to be said about your family and life back home, there’s nothing but talk of the war. And even that had died amongst the soldiers. They were quiet; deathly silent. We had walked alongside the tank for a time when I took a step and fell to the ground. I pushed my face up from the dirt and groaned, then looked at my foot. I had stepped in a large hole, and a large wire had trapped it down.
Earnst and another soldier rushed to my aid.
‘Hans, are you all right?’ asked Earnst.
I nodded but closed my eyes tightly as the pain began to release up my left leg where the bullet wound was still healing.
‘It looks like it was supposed to be a tank trap, but they abandoned it,’ said the other soldier.
‘They abandoned it fairly early then, by the size of the hole,’ replied Earnst. ‘His foot can only just fit in there. He may not be able to walk on it.’
‘Well, he will have to find a way,’ came a voice from behind Earnst. It was our commanding officer. ‘We do not have time to care and nurture him. Get his damned foot out of the hole, get the wire off it and get moving.’
‘How is he supposed to move?’ asked Earnst.
‘Help him. Or sit him on the tank. But remember, he’s vulnerable up there. One look at someone who is sitting eight feet tall, and one bullet is all it takes.’
I thought for a moment, then looked at Earnst. ‘Will it be safe?’
Earnst nodded. ‘Of course, it will. There are scouts up ahead.’
I nodded.
‘I’ll go on the tank, then. I don’t want you to have to help me the whole way.’
‘I wouldn’t mind, Hans.’
I gave him a glance and then looked at the ground.
‘Don’t be so noble. Just help me up on the tank, please.’
Earnst shrugged his shoulders.
‘Fine, if that’s what you want.’
Earnst and the other soldier heaved me up from the ground and launched me onto the tank, where I sat uncomfortably on the side. My legs dangled over the edge, and once we were moving again, I watched the tank’s tracks move in a never-ending circular motion.
I refrained from talking to anyone for a while, embarrassed about the whole ordeal and wanting nothing more than to curl up and not have to face the world. I felt like that often – more often than not. It felt as though all eyes were on me, and so I kept mine averted from anyone’s stare.
Two hours had passed, and we had moved slowly, still only on the outskirts of the city. The ground was rough, and every soldier was unsure of what was to be expected ahead. My backside ached from the constant thumping against the tank, its cold metal slapping my bones. The men in the tanks were constantly yelling out to keep checking the roads that no mines nor any traps had been set.
Paranoia had set in, and no soldier was immune. Heads whipped left and right at any sound that was made in the trees and shrubs. Any glint of light, however far away, was immediately spotted and groups of soldiers were sent to track it and search it out, armed and ready for any conflict. Half the time, it was nothing. Just a piece of metal reflecting from the sun. But sometimes those reflections led to our soldiers finding bunches of cottages behind the trees, with Russian civilians hiding in the cellars. No mercy was to be given, and none ever was. I was just glad I didn’t have to see it. But my conscience burned every time I thought of what happened. I knew what happened. We all did, but we uttered not a single word.
The smoke coming from the city still blocked out the sun. The lands were dark, but the sky was a mixture of red and grey. As I watched the sprawled-out trees slowly go by, my thoughts begun to multiply, with everything running through my mind.
What is less prudent? The man who is willing to kill others in the name of war, or the man who is willing to kill his own people in the name of war? What is more humble? The man who preaches peace, or the man who acts on it?
What I found truly alarming is all these young men, some younger than me, acting in sheer excitement at the possibility of death – even their own. Once it was just the prospect of war – glory, as they thought – that excited them, and then it was the battlefield. And even after Death had swept in, had brushed so close to them, almost kissing them on the lips, they still thrive on it. The mind is a funny thing, but the heart is stranger.
Chapter 32
September 13, 1942
Some of the soldiers, including myself, had overhead the officers arguing. We had cleared out a number of trenches, and made ourselves comfortable for the night, awaiting any attacks that may arise in the darkness. We had captured a number of soldiers that benefited us with intelligence, and were being questioned in another room, almost in the centre of the maze of trenches. We could hear the screams, even from so far away – it brought me back to the Fatherland, when I had witnessed the interrogation of the soldiers. I knew what they were doing, and what the soldiers were going through.
But near where we sat, huddled in a bunker that was no more than ten feet wide, we were all crammed inside, fighting for space. The officers were arguing over the Führer’s decision to bring in new top commanders, and the old ones would step down. Their voices were muffled, but one soldier who sat next to the door had heard bits in between. One argued that they liked it the way it was, because he was often given perks by one particular commander who he had become well known to. The other disagreed, saying they were useless when it came to the strategies of battle. They argued for a few minutes – ten at least – and then it finally ceased.
Our front line was thirty miles long in the offensive against the Russians. Our soldiers fought bitterly, pushing further and further into the city. But the Russians fought even more fiercely with every breath they took. Their determination meant many of our soldiers were pushed back a number of times before they could finally push forward.
Today we were to launch a two-phased attack. The morning sun was rising, and yet it was still dark. The constant smoke was from burning oil that had been spilled and set alight just four days prior, and it continued to burn. Trees and plants burned, houses burned, everything that had the possibility of attracting fire, did. Buildings collapsed as the wooden structures were reduced to ash, leaving remnants of a once glowing city to nothing. And it was about to get worse.
Our first phase was going to be a day-long bombardment of the southern part of the city. It was not going to cease until the day was over. Once the bombardment had stopped, the soldiers would race against time to claim the key areas that were needed to gain the advantage. The first was the hilltop of Mamayev Kurgan. It provided an overview of the whole city. From the factory area of the north to the Volga River, which ran parallel south with the city, and the civilian housing to the south – the panorama view was the ultimate advantage.
Another two divisions were to attack from the west, diagonally from Gumrak, toward the central landing stage. And, like a steel nail, another two divisions were to drive through the southern suburbs of Stalingrad, heading north-east towards the same finish point on the riverside.
It was going to be a bloody battle. We had not reached the city, and we already had more blood on our hands than any other battle we had fought.
I was in the division tasked with driving through the southern suburbs. My heart was beating fast for the entire day as the bombardment occurred, knowing that this was going to be the hardest thing I had to do. Civilians would look you in the eye, would hide from you or they would attack you – and either way, I didn’t want to be there. Some soldiers wanted to be there, but the number of soldiers that had a lust for battle had now lost it. They saw what true war was and they didn’t like it. I was no longer alone.
