01-06-2014, 01:59 PM
He was an experienced soldier, one no longer required to do menial duties. And yet, there he was, leaning up against a fence at this concentration camp. Gefr. (Gefreiter) Hans Jaeger was his name. He was only a few years shy of turning thirty and he, like many of the others stationed at this camp, found the job less exciting than his previous combative position. Still, it was nice to be away from the rain of bullets and the bloody battlefield. Although, as his blue eyes scanned the camp, he could still feel the battle wage on even here. Everywhere he went, death and destruction followed. But that was war. War destroyed with the hopes of bringing peace. It was a twisted thing, but it seemed to work. The Americans did it years ago when they fought for their independence. It was now Germany's time to shine and show all just who deserved to live. These people, the ones slaving away before him in the bright light and parching sun, those people deserved to be slaves to the superior white race of the Germans. Those beautiful fair-skinned, blond haired, blue eyed humans that were stern with perfection.
His hand moved across his brow to remove the loose beads of sweat that clung to his skin. His thick blond lashes cut through the air as he tipped his head back to quench his thirst with his canteen. The cool water splashed against his tongue and he indulged in the clear liquid. Oh how sweet it was to enjoy such a treat. Trying not to waste a spot of it, he lapped up the small stream that trailed down from the corner of his lips. It felt great to run his previously sandpaper tongue over his chapped lips.
Retreating the canteen, he resumed his position at the fence. Pulling off his hat, he brushed back his greasy blond hair that hadn't been washed in probably three days. He was due for a shower, a real shower. Slipping his hat back on, his face showed a smile as another soldier approached. "Alric," he nodded before being joined by the taller male.
"How are you today, Hans?" There were no formalities around these two. They had served together for the past year or so. They were practically brothers. Their only difference was one letter, an "e." Hans Jaeger and Alric Jager happened to cross paths on the battlefield. Alric Jager was a wounded soldier that Hans carried back to the German med camp. He stayed by the guy's side until he was roaring and ready to enter the war again. The two reenlisted in the same group and they spent many nights watching one another's back. Their bond was unbreakable.
"I'm ready for a shower." A chuckle followed before he received a light elbow tap from Alric. "The water kind of shower, dummy." With that final comment, the blonds erupted into a fit of laughter, but that was soon suppressed when their officer poked his head outside to see what the commotion was. Zipping up their lips, the two stood at attention until the coast was clear. Loosing up their demeanor, the nearly thirty-year-old males went back to keeping a wary eye on their prisoners.
"Why do they stare at the sun like that," Alric asked as he pointed out across the sea of captives to one who was staring up at the sun.
Shrugging, Hans could only guess at his actions. "It is warm. Perhaps it gives him hope?" Hans was a bit of a romantic. Prior to enlisting, he was engaged to a very lovely lady. Of course, her unexpected death was the turning point for him and the reason he enlisted. Still, back during those lighter days, Hans was an author. He wrote, a lot. He worked for the local paper, but he did more than just journalism. No, he wrote novels and poems and songs. He even wrote plays. He enjoyed dabbling in the finer things of life, like the fine arts.
"There's no hope for him. For any of them," Alric pulled Hans back from his dream world. "When the time comes, they'll all be walked to the showers."
The happiness that was once on their faces vanished. Death, even if it was the death of weaklings or monsters, was still not something to laugh and celebrate over. Taking up a solemn expression, the two blonds didn't utter a word for the next several hours. What was there to talk about? Their future? That was too uncertain to discuss. Their families? Neither had one anymore. Their meal that evening? It was the same as always -- meat and potatoes. Exhaling at the same time, the brothers by choice watched the labor camp inmates with hawk-like eyes, watching and waiting for one to trip up.
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