Konrad Feldpetzer

September 19th, 1943

The Remeisoux Residence, France

---

“Hey, wake up,” I felt myself slowly pulled out of my sleep, someone shaking my soldier.

I slowly woke up, disoriented and confused. I let out a few confused mumbles, my vision still somewhat blurry. I was dully aware of pain in my lower neck as I blinked away the grogginess to see Florian’s face.

“Whaddya need?” I groaned, my mind only half-awake.

“Just wanted to let you know that there are German patrols outside on the street,” he said in a hushed voice, “they won’t see you in here. But in case it happens, use the backdoor. I’ll hold them off.”

I nodded. He simply walked out of the room, closing the door behind him. I rested my head on the backrest of the chair, trying to find a position that relieved my neck pain. After a few minutes of trying, I gave up, simply sitting down and trying to stay awake. I glanced at the clock. Midnight.

“Was that Florian?” Annette’s voice came from the bed.

“Yes,” I replied, “Now go back to sleep. You need rest.”

“Well you need some too,” she replied.

“I already rested some,” I mumbled, trying to fall back asleep. Honestly, how did I ever fall asleep on this thing in the first place? My neck was screaming in pain.

“You’re obviously not going to fall asleep in a reading chair,” she said surprisingly calmly, a groggy edge to her voice.

“I did it once, I can do it again,” I replied, leaning back into the chair and closing my eyes.

After a few minutes, she just said, “Sleep in the bed, otherwise you’re going to be in a horrible condition tomorrow.”

I felt blood rush to my face in embarrassment. I blinked my eyes open out of confusion, “Are you saying sleep in the same bed?”

She simply shrugged one shoulder, and I could tell that the wound was bothering her, “It’s either that or you suffer from sleep deprivation for the rest of the day.”

I forced the instinctive no away, trying to break into a pragmatic view point. This wasn’t normal circumstances; Annette wasn’t some classmate whose house I was sleeping over at. We were in enemy territory and would be in danger for the next few hours until we made it back to HQ.

It seemed rational that I sleep so I’d be able to fully react, as Annette was injured.

Before I even did anything, though, I decided to pry a little, “Wasn’t it a little over a month ago that you hated having to breathe the same air as me?”

Her face tightened up in thought, eventually responding without hesitance, “Yes. And I still do sometimes, but we don’t have the luxury of emotions right now. Plus, I trust you a little more knowing that you’ve had several opportunities to rat us out but haven’t.”

I simply nodded, not really able to respond as I was trying to figure out how it came to this. It felt nearly surreal as I took my boots off. As I did, Annette scooted herself to the edge of the bed so we’d both have plenty of space.

I’d never really been a religious person, the Nazi propaganda that had dominated Germany for years now pushing religion to the background. If anything, Nazism had become the religion. But even then, I knew some parts of the Bible; you could never really take Christianity out of Bavaria. And I knew the concept of sinning, despite never caring much for it.

I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was committing some sort of sin, lying in bed next to Annette, a resistance fighter. Maybe I still had a small, toxic piece of Nazi vitriol left in me who was loyal to the swastika? Perhaps the traditional values I’d also grown up with simply left more of a mark on me than I had first thought?

Internally, I grimly chuckled. If the Bible was real, platonically sleeping next to a girl was the least of my worries.

I had killed people. I had the blood of poor men and boys, drafted into a war that wasn’t ours and corrupted by near religious fanaticism. Complex lives, filled with triumphs and losses, love and sorrow, all ended within a second. A single bullet enough to extinguish it.

And so, I lay there, haunted by the bloody faces of those lost in this useless conflict. I could barely even close my eyes, as that only made the faces more vivid. I could feel myself start silently gasping for breath.

Trying to calm myself down, I blinked. Once. Twice. Thrice.

With every blink, I came closer to reality. I choked the feelings down, locking them away. This was war. People will die.

Didn’t mean I couldn’t hate it.

I eventually calmed down enough to be in the present. The cream-colored ceiling, the soft fabric of the quilt underneath my fingers, the cold light of the moon filtering in through the windows, and Annette’s soft breathing to my left.

I immediately felt another rush of blood to my face, having forgotten the current situation. After I spent another minute calming down, the situation felt strangely natural.

My mind quickly flitted itself into a fantasy for a second before I could dig it out. The best thing you could do as an Aryan was spread the genes of the ‘master race’. Family was heavily emphasized in Germany, and it seemed like every Aryan man and adolescent were either preparing for a family or already had one.

I was a bit of an odd one, having wanted to go to university before even thinking about starting a family or getting married.

Was this what my life would have been like in some far-flung reality? A wife? Despite myself, I found my lips slightly curling at the thought. Honestly, being a married man sounded infinitely better than hiding for my life right now.

This entire situation had thrown me a curveball. One day, I know perfectly who I am. A young Aryan man that’s a loyal servant to the Reich and is destined to repopulate Europe. The next, I’m a rogue soldier fighting against an exposed, near monolithic evil.

And now that I think about it, it’s not only my identity that’s been thrown to the wolves but several unrelated things too. My very values had been called into question, which had been instilled by the Reich themselves.

I stewed in my thoughts for a few minutes, but simply decided to turn it off. I’d have plenty of time to think later. I could sleep now.

Feeling surprisingly calm, listening to Annette’s soft breaths, I was lulled into a peaceful sleep, a blessing to my addled mind.

---

I cracked my eyes open, exhausted. I was aware I had just slept but, honestly, I felt worse than before. The room was still dark.

And then I realized my position.

During the night, Annette had latched herself onto my torso like a child as I hugged her shoulders. In that split second, I could feel my heart go from regular beats to a steady hammer. I didn’t move at all, hoping that she wouldn’t wake up.

After listening to her lightly snore a little, I felt confident enough to try to slowly pry her hands off my waist. I did it bit by bit, holding my breath as I did. Thankfully, after around a few minutes, I was completely free.

I slowly slid out of the bed, slipping into my jackboots.

Quietly, I made my way to a window, looking out. The sky was still somewhat dark, with only the far east having a light grey and orange hue. I glanced out at the street; empty, except for the standard citizens walking.

If there was ever a time to move, now was it. I quickly walked over to the bed where Annette was still sleeping, lightly shaking her awake, and whispering, “Annette.”

She mumbled something I didn’t catch, only shaking her further until she was more awake.

“Is your chest ok?” I asked. I wasn’t in the mood to have to carry her to wherever base was. She simply gave me a groggy nod, still blinking the sleep out of her eyes.

“Come on, we have to go. You can sleep when we get back,” I urged her. Groaning, she roughly pushed herself out of bed and slipped into her shoes. She looked like a mess, her hair more akin to a wasp nest.

“It’s 4 AM, so it should be pretty easy to get to base,” I said.

Without a word, she groggily stumbled walked into the bathroom, leaving me alone in the room.

Not knowing what to do, I set to tidying up the bed. It was the least I could do, honestly. My mind was focused on getting back to base.

After a few minutes, Annette walked out, looking a bit better. Her hair wasn’t as frazzled and she looked a bit more awake overall. I glanced at her, “Ready to go?”

“Yeah,” and she walked out of the room and into the hall. I followed suit, trying to be as quiet as possible. It wasn’t easy with my jackboots, but I managed. It was near pitch black, but we navigated towards the door. As silent as possible, we exited the house and went out onto the street.

Despite the early hour, it was actually rather pleasant. A cool breeze blew through the streets that still had a significant amount of people driving and walking. If I had been there in different circumstances, I would have simply stood there, appreciating the scene around me.

“You sure you can walk?” I asked her, just to make sure.

“Yes. It’s a small wound to my chest, not my legs,” she replied.

“Alright, just checking. I don’t need you collapsing in the middle of the street,” I tried making a light joke but it fell flat for the most part.

We set out on the path, Annette taking the lead. Despite the hour, German soldiers were already posted at many street corners. Some even gave me weird looks, which had worried me until I remembered that I was wearing jackboots, which isn’t something you’d normally see a civilian wearing. Especially this far into the war.

We walked for around fifteen minutes before we were interrupted with a German soldier in front of a casino.

“Ey! Jackboots!” he called to me in German.

Nervous, I turned to the soldier with a calm façade. I could feel Annette tensing up next to me.

“Mind explaining to me why you’re wearing military-grade boots?” the soldier looked suspicious of me, so I simply did the first thing that popped into my mind. Which was lying. Or at least half-truths.

Replying in fluent German, I let the farce smoothly slip out of my mouth, “I just got here and the boots just feel off. I’m on leave right now, and I thought that if I simply wore them all the time I’d get accustomed.”

The man’s demeanor changed drastically once I said that I was a German soldier. He grinned, “Ah! A fellow soldier!”

His gaze changed from to Annette, “And who’s this?”

“My new flame. Exotic women are a commodity, you know,” I channeled the brotherly spirit I had built up in my time in the army, my voice light and playful.

“Ah, I get you,” the soldier chuckled, “Have a wife back home so debauchery is off-limits for me!”

“Anyways, she really needs to get home as we got a bit carried away,” my face went slightly red at the unintended innuendo.

“Understood,” he nodded, seeming to fully believe it. He went back to his post, and we quickly went back on our route.

An awkward silence filled the air for the next few minutes as we walked before being broken by Annette’s laughing.

Confused, I simply glanced at her. She stared back at me, bordering on hysteria, “Exotic woman? I’m French!”

“Well, to me you’re exotic,” I shrugged.

She immediately stopped laughing, intensely staring at me. I waivered a little and even felt a little intimidated. I internally laughed at the situation. I had run straight into bullet storms and fought off those I once called my allies but the stare of a girl one year older than me was enough to scare me.

“Well I’ve never been out of Bavaria in my life, so…” I explained weakly.

After another moment of silence, she simply asked, “Where’s Bavaria?”

I could tell by her tone that she knew, but I could tell that it wasn’t the purpose of the sentence. She was using the same trick on me that I had used on her; talk about our homes to open up. I smiled slightly, happy that she was opening up to me a bit more.

As we walked, I made sure to indulge her, “Oh, it’s absolutely beautiful. Bavaria is in Germany, and it’s like a paradise. Endless fields of crops, with the occasional small town that seems like something out of a fairytale.”

“So in which town did you grow up?” she asked, and I could see a small smile on her face.

“I grew up in Ebenschtadt,” I grinned, remembering my home, “It was a beautiful little town. I lived in the farm on the outskirts, but town center was where everything was best. Little stores were everywhere, selling everything from pretzels to pancakes. In the winter, the snow would make everything seem so magical as lights were strung up.”

“Did you have any family?” she continued her inquiries.

“I lived with my parents and sister,” I frowned slightly at the memories. Despite mother having been dead for years now, the wound still felt fresh no matter how much time passed. I choked up a bit but kept it down, adopting a more pragmatic view. It helped.

“My mother died a few years ago, when I was still in school, so I took care of my sister and helped my father on the farm. He had farmhands, though, so I mainly just picked up the eggs in the morning and helped to keep the horses clean,” I stated matter-of-factly, “Last I checked, my father worked in the military and my sister is studying at a boarding school free of charge for my father’s service.”

She noticed the shift in mood, staying quiet for a little bit as we walked. I spoke up this time, having recovered for the most part. After making sure no soldiers were around, I asked, “So when the dust settles and everything’s back to normal, what will you do?”

The question felt odd to me, coming out of my mouth. What was normal? For most of my life, Nazi propaganda had been my normal. Crowding around the radio and saluting as the Führer delivered speeches had been my normal. Holding parades with the swastika and eagle proudly painted on banners had been my normal.

A world without that felt alien, even if I know it’d be a good thing.

And what would become of Germany if the Allies won? Would it be replaced by a monarchy, like the German Empire of yore? Or would it become another republic? Would that republic even be effective? From what I understood, the Weimar government had failed the German people.

I brought myself out my thoughts, glancing at Annette. She looked blank and confused, as if never having even considered it. She said as much a second later, “Honestly, I’ve been fighting this war so long that I can’t even imagine what I’d do when it’s over.”

I thought for a moment, “Well, what did you want to do before all of this?”

She seemed to struggle to remember, “I think I wanted to become a dancer. Or a painter. An artist of some kind.”

“Huh,” well that was new information, “Well, if I was to stick to my pre-war aspirations, I’d probably go to a university. Learn some things, if only to be able to say I know them. Maybe another language. I know German and French, along with fractured bits of English. So possibly that.”

“I know English too,” Annette offered, seeming proud of herself.

“Really?” I studied her face, trying to determine whether she was joking or not.

Annette nodded, “I’m not fluent in it but I can hold a conversation with an English-speaker.”

She abruptly stopped. I stopped too, if only to follow her lead. I looked forward, only seeing an antique shop across the street from us. Before I could even say anything, she piped up, declaring, “We’re here.”