//------------------------------// // Chapter 7 To live and let live // Story: A war to close to home // by Bronycommander //------------------------------// Chapter 7: to live and let live I was lying on my cot, still trying to process what happened. Babs was making a good recovery. Still, were my brother and friends still alive? I didn’t know but I was glad that she was. The Foal was sleeping, her chest gently rising and lowering curled up next to me. Looking at the beautiful full moon, I fell asleep with a relieved sigh. In the morning, I woke up when I heard a voice. “He carried her through no man’s land at night? He’s a hero for sure!” Still sleepy, my eyes opened and I couldn’t believe it. My brother was still alive! Holding my excitement in control, not to wake Babs, I got up and hugged him tightly. “I thought I had lost you!” “Me too, brother. It is true that you crossed no man’s land?” “Yeah. What happened to you?” I asked as he had a scar on his left cheek. “A splitter had hit me. Fritz, Bergmann and I got disoriented and got back to friendly lines without knowing it.” He explained as they joined us. “It’s nice to see to see you again. Tell us, how did you do that?” Fritz asked. “It’s a long story.” I told them what happened after the artillery fire, how I met Tommy, the Mark IV, the airship crash, and how I ended up in no-man’s land. “Sounds like you have been through hell. Here, I got a rifle for you.” Bergmann gave a new Gewehr 98. I kept the C96 Carbine I found as sidearm. The day was quiet. Babs woke up in the morning. “Good morning.” “Morning.” We replied all. I saw in her eyes that she would not forget what happened the night before. “H-Herbert…what h-happened t-to T-tommy?” She asked stuttering as if she knew what happened to him. “I’m sorry, Babs. He joined me to get you to safety but as we reached you, a bullet hit him. He didn’t get up. I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry…” Her pupils went small and I could swear, I saw lighting in her eyes as she realized that he died. She collapsed crying. “No…NO! No! WAAAHH TOMMY!” I hugged her to comfort her about her loss. OUR loss. “Shh…We’re here for you…” I had to rock back and forth to calm her down. It took some time. “W-was it q-quick?” she sobbed. “Quick and painless. But remember: He will always be alive in your heart.” I pointed to her chest. She let out a weak smile. “You’re right.” Then Bergmann had an idea. He took his helmet off and putted it on her head. She giggled. I picked her up and gave her a piggy back ride but stayed low to avoid being hit by a sniper. When a sniper would see her, I doubt that he would pull the trigger. While it became late, she yawned and fell asleep. A young recruit watched her for me as I took part of a nighttime raid with Holger, Fritz and some other soldiers. Instead of trenches, we had order to secure a nearby town that was suspected to be held by enemy forces. It was raining and quiet. A thunderstorm. We moved carefully. Fritz was our leader and gave a sign to stop. I looked around and saw a house to our right in the distance. As Fritz moved forward, I spotted an enemy support gunner with a Lewis Gun in the window. I stretched my right arm out and yelled, “Wait!” But it was too late. Everything went in slow-motion. As he looked back at me, the MG gunner fired and bullets perforated Fritz. We dived to cover behind a stone wall. “Fritz!” Holger was about to leave his cover but I pulled him back. “Fritz?” “Father gave you a good brain, now use it!” I made a sign for a captured Mark IV and an A7V to move in. before going back into cover as bullets flew past me. The A7V aimed his 57mm gun at the house and fired. It collapsed from the shot. Then we moved in to capture the town. It was a complete success. “Fritz… he was the only friend we had left of your class…” Holger couldn’t believe that he was gone. “But we still have Babs and Bergmann.” I tried to cheer him up. “You’re right, brother. Let’s go check on her.” We moved back to our line, it was still night when we arrived. “We captured the town but we lost Fritz.” I reported to Bergmann. “Fritz? Goddamnit. He was one of the best support gunners we ever had.” While not showing it, I could see that even Bergmann was affected by his death. Despite the rain, Babs stayed asleep but whimpered. “Tommy! NO!” She awoke with a gasp, cold sweat on her face. Instantly, she hugged me, crying in my chest. I patted her back. “It’s my fault that he died!” She blamed herself for his death. “Sweetie…it wasn’t your fault.” Again, it took some time for her to calm down. It pained me. She cried herself to sleep. I gently placed her back into the cot. “Let me tell you something Herbert, I will defend her until my last breath and bullet if I have too.” Holger had her close to his heart like me, Bergmann and the others. The Morning came. Holger and I were in a crater far away from our line as a flame trooper closed in, covered by an MG position. Holger got out of it. Moved closer to the still out of range flame trooper and went prone to fire. He managed to kill the flame trooper but as he got up, he got hit by the MG and fell into another crater. I sprinted to the crater and jumped into it. Removing his helmet, I saw that blood was running down his head. “No! No!” I yelled in disbelief and started to cry. It became anger. “God! Oh God, god. God, god!” I slammed his helmet several times into the mud before letting out a sob. As the MG fired again, I took it out with an Anti-tank grenade. A stick grenade with several explosive heads taped together made a decent bang and were also very effective against buildings and infantry. Back at our line, Babs walked to me as I talked to the body of my brother who got prepared to be sent home. “It won’t be easy telling mother; she always told me to look after you, brother.” She hugged me tightly to comfort me. She was depressed like me but still she helped out as well as she could by carrying medical supplies. After my brother’s death, I gathered food with Bergmann and Babs. “At least, it was quick and painless for him.” “Yes, but it won’t be easy for mother and father.” “How old was he, Herbert?” Babs asked. “20. So young and full of enthusiasm and adventure.” I smiled, remembering when we we’re kids what adventures we had. “The Americans got fresh troops, too many tanks, guns, there is no way of winning. We would need a miracle for that,” Bergmann realized that the war was lost. Out of nowhere, a whistle. Instinctively, I clenched Babs protectively while diving into a ditch for cover. We were unharmed but Bergmann’s left leg was bleeding. No sharpel but bleeding pretty badly. Babs got a bandage out of her saddle bag and I took care of his wound by putting pressure on it and a bandage on it. The sickbay wasn’t far away, so I carried him to it. He grunted in pain, while Babs talked to him to distract him, to keep the pain away. She talked with him about what a good cook he was and he replied that he was about to open a restaurant before the war. As we reached the sickbay, another medic took Bergmann from me only to say, “You might spare yourself. He’s stone-dead.” Babs took my canteen. “No. He’s still alive. I talked with him 10 minutes ago.” “Take a sip.” She held the canteen with her right hoof and gently putted his head up with her other hoof. His dead body fell on his back and she looked at her left hoof. It was covered in blood and she looked at it in shock. But not because of the blood but because he was dead. “He was talking…10 minutes ago…We were talking…” As she said that, I noticed that my hands were also covered in blood. From carrying him. We both looked at each, realizing that we were the only ones left now. I washed the blood of my hands and her hoof before we had a hug. She started to sing. “Pack up your troubles in your old kit-back and smile, smile, smile. While you’ve a Lucifer to light your, smile, boys, that’s the style. What’s the use of worrying?” She sang it with a very sad and depressed voice. One day all this will be over. The war to end all wars as they called it will be won – by one side or the other. The guns will rust. Grass will grow, and there’ll be nothing left of any of this. The land will heal itself as everything does in the end. We’ll be long gone by then – but maybe not forgotten. History only remembers one in a thousand of us, then the future will be filled with stories of who we were and what we did. How we lived, how we fought and how we died. When this is all over and the war is won, they will remember us. Remember me. But until that day comes, I will stand, I will look death into the eye, and I will fight! For her, to protect her. While Babs hugged me, she stopped singing and asked, “Who decides such things?”