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// Contact 
// Story: For Whom The Bell Tolls 
// by The Shtebbie 
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February 24th, 1945

Sergeant Lewis Atwater of the U.S. Army's Rangers trudged through the snow behind the Lieutenant. The rest of their squad followed behind. They were all exhausted, and were shivering. They had been walking for about two hours now, and the snow was thick and deep, making the walking in itself a tiring experience. Soon they reached a tree line, and dug foxholes for a short rest. They broke out K-rations, and started a small fire. Atwater mulled over their task while he ate. Their objective was to probe the German defenses in and around this area, even though everyone knew there was nothing here except an abundant amount of possible firewood. They were supposed to take up a position and monitor the area. This would be simple enough.

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10:30 Local time

Atwater stood watch. The squad was sleeping behind him, and the fire was long dead. He clutched his M1 Garand rifle to his chest in a desperate attempt to conserve body heat. He sat, shivering even with the newspaper stuffed under his jacket and blanket. 'Woe be me," He thought to himself. 'I knew Jackie was right. This is Hell frozen over.' He shook his head, chuckling to himself. As he gazed into the forest, he heard something. As it grew louder, he realized it was someone muttering. He quickly realized it wasn't English.


Vater unser, der du bist im Himmel,
Geheiligt werde dein Name.
Dein Reich komme.
Dein Wille geschehe auf Erden,
Wie es im Himmel ist.
Gib uns heute unser tägliches Brot....


He recognized the sound....then two things clicked at the same time. First, the speaker was reciting the Lord's Prayer. Second, and most importantly, he was reciting it in German.

Atwater turned and punched Jerry in the arm. Jerry jumped. "Who the hey the what the f-"
"Shut up! Wake up the others, there's a Kraut out there!" Atwater hissed. Jerry nodded and moved off. Atwater turned back towards where the voice had come from.

And saw the German soldier standing there.
With his back turned.
Urinating on a tree.

Atwater slowly got up and began to move towards the unsuspecting German. As he approached, the German buttoned up his trousers and turned around.

And took a bayonet through the heart. The man slumped to the ground quietly. Atwater stood there staring at the body. He hadn't ever killed anyone before, and the fact the man had been a Christian strained every nerve in his body. He just stood there in shock at the blood on his bayonet, his mind numb. He felt something on his shoulder. He sat there a moment longer, until the Lieutenant tapped him on the shoulder again.
"Sergeant, what happened?"
"I saw a lone soldier approaching out position. I alerted Jerry, then realized the man-" he choked a bit as he remembered he killed another human being. "The man was unaware of my presence, and his back was turned. I pressed the advantage. Sir."
The lieutenant looked at the body on the ground. Suddenly, they heard a voice calling in the distance, accompanied by the sound of treads grinding.
"Ralf? Ralf? Wo bist du?"
The grinding came closer. The Lieutenant took cover behind a tree, and Atwater did likewise.
"Ich sehe etwas! Da drüben!"
The Lieutenant raised a finger to his lips as he looked at Atwater. He responded with a nod. The others were too far back to see. As they watched, they saw two men reach the body of 'Ralf'.
"Was zur Hölle? Er ist tot!" The two Germans brought their rifles up. Both toted MP-44's, and they each racked a round. He heard them move off after a brief period, one carrying the body. The grinding had stopped, and he heard voices. Suddenly, the lights of the half-track came alive, blinding Atwater and the Lieutenant. The lieutenant instinctively covered his eyes with his arm. Atwater did likewise. He heard shouting, and it was coming closer.
"Da sind sie!"
Atwater lowered his arm as quickly as he could, only to see the butt of a rifle approaching his face. He fell to the ground as reality faded away...but not before he heard the gunshot.