Sure enough, someone did trip. A young lad at that. The second he fell, Alric made a move. For a moment, Hans stood back and watched. What as Alric to do? Rarely was Hans assigned outside so he wasn't too familiar with the protocol. By the time the soldier had made it to the boy, Amir already had him up and working again. What came next took Hans aback. He didn't waste a moment either. Springing into action, he found himself tugging at Alric's arm. If he weren't as fast as he was, the poor boy might have had his last sip of life. Thankfully, his grip was tight and tough, impossible for Alric to break. With a good squeeze on the man's wrist, Alric's hand muscles opened just enough to drop the knife. Shifting his boot to cover the weapon, Hans gave his fellow soldier a good push before bending down to seize the almost lethal knife.

"What the hell?" Alric's eyes were locked on Hans, trained to follow his every step. Eyes of disbelief widened with rage when he saw the soldier pat the kid. "The hell is wrong with you!" He was beginning to shout, which would cause trouble for the whole lot, German soldiers included.

"Silence," his orbs glared at Alric. "I don't know how this camp runs up here, but I don't think it's right to down ourselves a worker." His hand glided down the boy's cheek. "When was the last time these workers got a decent chug of water?" When the answer didn't come, Hans took a bold step toward the other, blade drawn in intimidation. "I asked you a question, Jager."

"Probably two days ago," he finally caved, probably due to Hans' slightly higher rank. Still, Alric hated being in this position. Retreating from the fields, he left Hans alone to defend himself. There was no way he wanted to be with this guy right now. He compromised him. He made him look weak. He would get vengeance for this move, or that was the thought that passed through his mind right then and there.

Alone and surrounded by the slave-like workers, Hans didn't feel threatened. Pulling out his canteen, he offered it graciously to the boy. "Drink," he instructed. There was no hesitation on the kid's behalf for he knew better than to argue. Thirstily gulping down the water, he started to cough, which caused Hans to pull the canteen away. "Slowly, slowly now. There's plenty of water. No need to be greedy," his voice was stern but had a hint of compassion to it. "Christ, I can't have you drown yourself."

Another soldier came into the area. This one appeared to be Doc, or at least the one they called Doc. "What's going on here?" He was an older fellow, probably in his late forties. Gray hair was consuming his once auburn colored locks. Deep green eyes were fading with age and wrinkles were becoming a thing of habit on his face.

"The kid collapsed." It was a lie. He saw the whole thing. The lad tripped, but collapsing due to thirst would explain the canteen in his hand. "He's young and able. I saw no point in killing him. A bit of water would do him up nicely."

"You're new here, aren't you?" Doc looked the boy over and agreed that water was the right treatment. "You're not supposed to be nice to them. They're not like us."

"You mean they're not German, like us. Other than that--" he stopped abruptly, knowing that he was speaking out of tongue. "Other than that and a dozen other things. I see your point, but I don't think killing off our workers is right." His hands moved behind his back. "I know they're in surplus, but these ones know the work. They know the job. Why kill them? They're skilled and learned. Getting new ones will only cause more trouble for us."

Doc seemed to agree with the younger soldier. "Suppose your right. Carry on. I'll put in a good word for you. I can already see our right to have you is greatly in our favor. Probably one of a few that's actually got common sense. I salute that. Carry on, soldier..." he tried to read the name woven in the fabric above his pocket.

"Gefr. Hans Jaeger," he finished for the man. With a bow, he saw the guy off before fixing his attention on the kid who was slowly depleting his water. "You're a thirsty one, aren't you?" It was almost as if he was referring to a dog rather than a kid. "Suppose I ought to fix up some more water." As he rose, his eyes caught a glimpse of his "friend," Alric. "Back so soon. Did you miss me?" It was cocky and misplaced, but he just had to say it.

"I informed him that we were going to water the prisoners. I told him that you noticed they were dying faster than ants in the rain." Alric rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry I was out of line, Gefr. Jaeger." Alric marched away and began collecting water. Of course, he didn't go alone. He grabbed five capable workers to carry the jugs and place them in the earth.

Once the troughs were in place, the two soldiers dropped the water in the rusting thing. Even though dust coated it, it was still better than nothing. Water was water no matter how dirty and old it was. Both Nazis stepped back and watched the prisoners slowly approach the water. It was a slow process and Hans was ready to speed things up.

"Come now, drink up. The sun's high and hot, wouldn't want you to fall. Drink up now before it's gone for the day." Still moving with hesitation, the inmates started to line up and each took a turn at the trough, slurping up a fair share of water before moving to go back to work. Alric had gone back to his post, leaving Hans to stand at the front of the line. He wanted to make sure no one took more than they needed. In addition to doing that, he watched each man, child, and woman approach, taking note of each. One day, he would have them all down pat. Not today, though.

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