Double Nature [Gottfried]

[Rolf Jäger]

Country: Germany, outskirts of Berlin
Current Time: 09:00, early spring.
Weather Conditions: A pleasant morning, it is still quite cool and although there are clouds in the sky, it looks to be a beautiful, sunny day.

The sunlight filtered softly through the green leaves of the trees, creating interesting patterns on the dry, dusty gravel surrounding the large stables of the Wehrmacht. The German army, as mechanized and immensely fast it was, still employed the strength of horses to pull supply wagons and artillery around - many people were not even aware of how important the simple horse was to the German war effort. Most of the horses were naturally now used by the army on the different fronts, but some of them were brought back to these stables for veterinary attention and some were still young animals receiving training. For Hauptmann Rolf Jäger the stables provided a comfortingly familiar and peaceful reprieve and even though his duties rarely granted him the time to visit here, he did so as often as he could.

The young Luftwaffe pilot was wearing his military riding breeches and an officer's tunic, all tailored in a dark grey shade which had a slight blueish tint to it. The peaked cap wasn't sitting quite straight in his head, his black boots were dusty and he had managed to get small bits of dry straw stuck on the canvas of his trousers, but he hardly noticed any of this. It was as if his mind had been transported to an entirely different reality when visiting the stables and one could say that it was one the most peaceful moments anyone would ever witness the Hauptmann enjoying. He was standing in the yard near the biggest building, his one hand holding the reins of the horse and with the other resting on its forehead. The man was murmuring words at the animal, knowing full well that only the sound of his quiet, calm voice mattered to the horse, which was horse was languidly drooping its head down, brown eyes half-closed and ears pointed towards the Hauptmann. As much as Rolf had difficulties coming along with people, he usually had very little trouble dealing with horses. He had spent his childhood among these animals and had picked up the horsemanship skills from his father, who in turn had inherited this knowledge from his own father, a tradition carried through for several generations. The von Jägers had always been known for the family's strong affiliation with horses and Rolf's father had been quite adamant that Rolf should learn these skills, also.

It had really not been something that Rolf had objected to, he had always admired horses for their power, for their untamed spirit and for their graceful, primal beauty. These magnificent beasts had carried men to wars, plowed fields for them, carried messages over treacherous lands and to Rolf, given him his freedom and opened up that window for adventure, something that would have been otherwise denied of him due to his heritage. He still fondly recalled the days of escaping from the dusty books and lessons of his private teacher, carried into the cool forests and sunny meadows on the back of his horse, Lotti.

Rolf sharpened up as he heard the sound of someone approaching and he slowly let his hand slide down the horse's nose. The Hauptmann's eyes narrowed ever so slightly and he moved around the horse to see a young Wehrmacht Corporal leading a steel grey mare towards him. Since Rolf had no idea of how skilled a rider Feldwebel Schmitt was, he had requested for a somewhat calmer animal; seeing how bulky the mare appeared, she could have only had some draft horse blood in her veins, trudging with an almost lazy, leisurely fashion to its step - a perfect mount for the Feldwebel, then! Even the most slow-witted buffoon could not fall off from the saddle of such a sluggish horse as that.

"Warten Sie gerade dort mit dem Pferd, Gefreiter, ich denke-" Rolf's attention was again drawn away by another sound, this time by the low rumble of an engine coming from the shaded oak-lined road leading to the stables. "Ah, es macht nichts, dort sind sie." The Hauptmann turned around to watch as the military grey Kubelwagen stopped at the small parking space reserved for vehicles next to the white, worn stone wall of the first stable building. A very familiar black motorcycle had been parked next to three other military vehicles, it did not really seem to fit the scene too well. The early morning's warmth had attracted groups of oversized flies gathering on the wall and buzzing around lazily while the men started getting out of the Kubelwagen. Kronberg had been given the task of making sure that Feldwebel Schmitt had means of getting to the stables and a young Wehrmacht soldier had driven the two Luftwaffe pilots to the stable grounds. Kronberg had said very little during the car trip and might have even appeared somewhat annoyed by the fact that the Feldwebel had suddenly been picked out over him by the Hauptmann. The Wehrmacht Private hurried up from the car to go around and open the door for Kronberg and Schmitt, but Kronberg, having grabbed a short riding crop from the seat, had already stepped down the vehicle.

Rolf led his horse towards the newcomer and the man appeared quite content, hardly even noticing that the previously calm gelding was now whipping its tail around, nervously eyeing the people and the vehicle behind them. Kronberg stopped near the Hauptmann, snapping into a prompt, practiced salute before handing him over the riding crop. The officer accepted it with a small smile, but his sharp eyes were already on Feldwebel Schmitt - he was interested in seeing how the young pilot would handle the horse and more so, the conversation that would evolve between them. "Danke, Kronberg. Und schön dich zu sehen, Schmitt. Weil Sie sehen können, ist alles bereit. Es gibt Ihr Pferd, alles Gesatteltes und Bereites zu gehen," Rolf pointed out in his low, raspy voice, flashing the young pilot an almost reassuring smile. The young Gefreiter lead the grey mare closer and settled into standing on its right side, holding on to the animal's chin strap and waiting for the higher ranking man to climb into the saddle.

The Hauptmann had already easily swung himself on the saddle of his now rather nervous horse, not even troubled by the skittish sidesteps it was trying to perform; the chestnut horse might have been riled up by the presence of so many people or it was merely anxious to get moving - whatever the reason was, the animal was now displaying an entirely different temper than just moments ago. Rolf leaned in to pat the gelding on the neck although his eyes were on Schmitt - he was more than curious to see how the man handled himself in this situation and a small, interested smile crept up to his lips. It was almost as if the man was expecting Schmitt to tumble down from the saddle and even Kronberg, who was holding the Hauptmann's horse, turned his head around to observe the upcoming spectacle.


Translations:

"Warten Sie gerade dort mit dem Pferd, Gefreiter, ich denke-"
"Just wait there with the horse, Gefreiter, I think-"

"Ah, es macht nichts, dort sind sie."
"Ah, never mind, there they are."

"Danke, Kronberg. Und schön dich zu sehen, Schmitt. Weil Sie sehen können, ist alles bereit. Es gibt Ihr Pferd, alles Gesatteltes und Bereites zu gehen."
"Thank you, Kronberg. And good to see you, Schmitt. As you can see, everything is ready. There's your horse, all saddled and ready to go."

[Gottfried Schmitt]

Horses. If there was one thing in this world which Greta would consider her Achilles’ heel, it was horses. It had started out as a trepidation following her father’s death, a fancy that the horse which had crushed his rib cage would stare at her as she went past in the mornings, something in its gaze different than before its hooves met human flesh. Somewhere along the way, though, this nervousness had become a driving fear that startled the two draft beasts they had and kept her from the barn as often as she could afford to be away. She would not let the horses do to her what they had done to her father. When the farm collapsed, the one bright point that got the girl though was the knowledge that she would never see those damnable beasts again. Of course, she knew in theory that there were mounted soldiers in the army when she joined, but she would be a pilot, away from the dangerous creatures. Better to let some other poor sod deal with them.

It was, then, an unpleasant surprise at the very least to discover she would have the ‘honour’ of accompanying Hauptmann Jäger on a ride this day. For several days prior, she had spent much time and energy mentally preparing herself, working hard to rationalize the coming excursion. These would not be, after all, draft horses, but the riding sort. Smaller riding horses couldn’t trample anyone to death…right? She’d hedged around the subject with Weiss, hoping he knew something about horses, but somehow he took her ignorance for some elaborate joke and refused to tell her much of anything of worth. Saturday morning found her staring at the ceiling after a sleepless night, exhausted and dreading the day’s trip.

Hauptfeldwebel Kronberg had been kind enough to send for a motorized vehicle, though Greta was almost certain it had been an order rather than altruism since the two had spent the majority of the ride sitting in stony silence. Greta certainly did not mind; besides being too tired to care for small-talk, as the vehicle drew closer to their destination, she could feel the pieces of her composure facture bit by bit. A Hauptfeldwebel sore with her for winning favour she did not want was the last thing she could afford to worry herself about when the Hauptmann himself was waiting for her with horses. So she kept the silence on her end as well, and simply watched as the vehicle came to a stop outside the stables and Kronberg exited. She of course promptly followed, eyeing the animals that had been prepared cautiously. She snapped into a salute a respectful distance from the Hauptmann and his horse, saying simply, "Feldwebel Schmitt Berichterstattung, Hauptmann Jäger, Hauptfeldwebel Kronberg," She waited for permission to drop the salute, then stepped a bit further away from the chestnut mount. It was moving around as though nervous, and she wondered anxiously if her own feelings were affecting its attitude. Could horses smell fear like some animals could? Did they ever attack when they smelt fear? She kept a very much practiced, neutral look on her face. She could do nothing about her racing heart.

"Danke, Kronberg. Und schön dich zu sehen, Schmitt. Weil Sie sehen können, ist alles bereit. Es gibt Ihr Pferd, alles Gesatteltes und Bereites zu gehen,"

Greta nodded, “Danke schön, Herr Hauptmann,”

A Gefreiter led a gray horse nearer, and took up a station on the right side. Greta glanced over the creature and up, taking in its bulk. Though the horse was smaller than those she once knew, she could still see her father’s draft beast laid over it like a ghost. It was certainly much larger than she had led herself to believe it would be. She gave a preoccupied "Danke schön," to the Gefreiter and took a moment to control her accelerated breathing. She’d had nightmares about this moment every evening since given the invitation.

Looking back at the Hauptmann, she stiffened as her horse snorted and tried to turn its head toward her. The Hauptmann and Hauptfeldwebel were watching her, and she maneuvered around to the left stirrup carefully. From this side, in order to mount frontwards she would have to use the…left foot? A neighbor back in her days on the farm had been wealthy enough to own several riding horses. He would ride to town on them, and she had seen him mount once or twice in the distance on a trip in for supplies. She tried now to mimic the little hop-pull that he used to get into the saddle, pushing herself up—before landing again on the ground. She glanced over at the Hauptmann a second time, quickly, and moved try again, her foot still in the stirrup. The horse sidled away a bit and snorted, but the Gefreiter kept it from moving much. Bouncing a bit to get closer to the animal, she jumped again and this time managed to drag herself gracelessly into the saddle. From there with difficulty she pulled her leg across the wide belly and took her unsteady seat atop the beast. The Hauptmann would doubtless be unimpressed, but she was not yet under a set of flailing hooves so she would count this a tiny success.

She could feel the horse move under her legs, its belly expanding with its breath. She had never been astride a living creature before. Wie leicht wäre es, daß du mich auf den Boden klopfen und zerdrücken mir? Her mouth went dry at the unwanted thought which came to mind, and she wondered if the animal was as nervous as she. In all the world, this was quite possibly the last place she wanted to be.

"Feldwebel Schmitt Berichterstattung, Hauptmann Jäger, Hauptfeldwebel Kronberg,”
(“Feldwebel Schmitt reporting, Hauptmann Jäger, Hauptfeldwebel Kronberg,” )

“Danke schön, Herr Hauptmann,”
(“Thank you very much, Herr Hauptmann”)

Wie leicht wäre es, daß du mich auf den Boden klopfen und zerdrücken mir?
(How easy would it be for you to knock me to the ground and crush me?)

[Rolf Jäger]

Kronberg did not try to hide his gleeful smirk when he watched Feldwebel Schmitt hopping on one foot, trying to clamber himself up in the saddle. The Hauptfeldwebel had no particular love or interest for equines, but he had learned to tolerate them after Jäger had ordered the NCO to accompany him on various riding trips to the countryside. The Hauptmann enjoyed having someone along for company and he also liked to talk quite excessively during these trips. Usually Jäger was talking about himself and Kronberg was merely agreeing with whatever he said - it certainly wasn't a glamorous way to spend one's time, but it didn't hurt being on your CO's good side, either. Somewhere deep inside him Kronberg wished that this new Feldwebel would fall of the damned horse and break - or at least fracture - some bones in the process. Being friends with the Hauptmann had it's perks and he did not want to lose his spot to some annoying Bavarian Feldwebel. Maybe Jäger would simply tire of the clumsy pilot?

Kronberg glanced at Rolf and saw only interest and open amusement on his features - for some reason he did not appear irritated by Schmitt's stumbling at all. Kronberg sighed and stepped away from the horse when the Hauptmann collected the reins, getting ready to leave. "Nicht als ob verwendet zu Pferden dann, Schmitt? Oh so, bin ich sicher, dass es zu Ihnen kommen wird. Versuchen Sie gerade, jetzt nicht zurückzugehen," Rolf remarked in a sarcastic manner, most likely just hoping to see the Feldwebel making a mistake. It would certainly make the day more amusing, much like watching one of those silly, painted clowns doing ridiculous things for the amusement of others. Rolf's lips curled into a crooked smile at the thought and he pressed his heels against the horse's sides, starting to move across the yard and towards a small path that would take them away from the stables. The man turned around slightly in his saddle to see how Schmitt was doing and to make sure that he was following him. He was still feeling quite amused, but if the Feldwebel could not even keep up at this pace, the riding trip wouldn't be much fun, now would it?

Rolf relaxed into a comfortable position in his saddle, settling to the pace of the horse's soft walk. As flashy as it would have been to leave the yard in a reckless gallop, Rolf knew that it was better to have the horses stretch out their limbs first. Besides, if he departed in a billowing cloud of dust, he would surely have to stop and wait until Schmitt had picked himself up from the ground. Rolf pulled gently at the reins of his mount and waited until Schmitt had managed to steer his horse closer so he could settle into a walk next to him. Rolf kept eyeing the Feldwebel, his grey eyes squinted in a calculating manner. "Unterdrücken Sie Ihre Fersen und sitzen Sie gerade bequem. Und hingestellt Ihre Ellbogen, Sie sind nicht ein Flugzeug," Rolf said gruffly, staring at the Feldwebel to make sure that he was at least trying to follow his instructions. The leather of his saddle creaked as he moved slightly to inspect the Feldwebel better, but then he seemed at least somewhat content with Schmitt because he slowly returned to his previous position and started talking again.

"Das ist davon nicht viel verschieden, einen Kämpfer zu führen. Sie beruhigen sich gerade und hören dem Flugzeug zu," Rolf's eyes closed half-way and he gazed somewhere into the distance, maybe imagining himself in his Messerschmitt instead. "Sie wird Ihnen erzählen was zu tun, wenn Sie ihr gerade zuhören. Sie lernen Aufmerksamkeit diesem Gefühl an der Grube Ihres Magens, des Hebens, der Schinderei schenken... Ich würde nicht sagen, dass Pferde viel von Kämpfern verschieden sind, haben sie beide ihre Tricks zu ihnen. Einhaltung ist der Schlüssel. Einige Menschen lernen es gerade nie," Rolf's steel-grey eyes snapped suddenly open and the short moment in which he had seemed to drift off to some other world was over as quickly as it had appeared. Even though there was that relaxed air around the Hauptmann currently, his rapid changes in mood could only spell danger to someone who wasn't paying enough attention to them.

They had now travelled past the stables and over a small gravel road to a wide, grassy path. It was lined by several maple trees and apparently was often used by horses - several hoof prints were visible on the soft soil of the otherwise overgrown, abandoned field. The sun was shining benevolently from a clear, blue sky and various different birds were singing in the trees. Indeed, it seemed like a very idyllic environment for some horseback riding - that was, of course, if one considered such a past-time relaxing at all. Rolf, at least, seemed to be in a rather amiable mood and he tilted his head to the side as he regarded Schmitt once again. "So. Schmitt Bayerns," the man said the words as if was some elaborate title he had seemed fit to bestow upon the Feldwebel. "Was ist es, der wurde Sie im Fliegen interessiert? War das bloß eine Karriere-Wahl oder ist dort ein tiefer, mehr bedeutungsvolle Geschichte zu Ihnen, sich der Luftwaffe anschließend?" As far as anyone could say, the man appeared genuinely interested in hearing the Feldwebel's story and there were no hints of sarcasm to his voice or to his demeanor. Still, with Rolf it was hard to say just what kinds of traps and snares were hiding beneath his words, but one could not just leave his questions unanswered, either.


Translations:

"Nicht als ob verwendet zu Pferden dann, Schmitt? Oh so, bin ich sicher, dass es zu Ihnen kommen wird. Versuchen Sie gerade, jetzt nicht zurückzugehen."
"Not that used to horses then, Schmitt? Oh well, I'm sure it will come to you. Just try not falling off now."

"Unterdrücken Sie Ihre Fersen und sitzen Sie gerade bequem. Und hingestellt Ihre Ellbogen, Sie sind nicht ein Flugzeug."
"Keep your heels down and just sit comfortably. And put your elbows down, you're not an airplane."

"Das ist davon nicht viel verschieden, einen Kämpfer zu führen. Sie beruhigen sich gerade und hören dem Flugzeug zu."
"It's not much different from piloting a fighter. You just calm down and listen to the aircraft."

"Sie wird Ihnen erzählen was zu tun, wenn Sie ihr gerade zuhören. Sie lernen Aufmerksamkeit diesem Gefühl an der Grube Ihres Magens, des Hebens, der Schinderei schenken... Ich würde nicht sagen, dass Pferde viel von Kämpfern verschieden sind, haben sie beide ihre Tricks zu ihnen. Einhaltung ist der Schlüssel. Einige Menschen lernen es gerade nie."
"She will tell you what to do if you just listen to her. You learn to pay attention to that feeling at the pit of your stomach, the lift, the drag... I wouldn't say that horses are much different from fighters, they both have their tricks to them. Observance is the key. Some people just never learn it."

"So. Schmitt Bayerns. Was ist es, der wurde Sie im Fliegen interessiert? War das bloß eine Karriere-Wahl oder ist dort ein tiefer, mehr bedeutungsvolle Geschichte zu Ihnen, sich der Luftwaffe anschließend?"
"So. Schmitt of Bavaria. What is it that got interested you in flying? Was it merely a career choice or is there some deeper, more meaningful story to you joining the Luftwaffe?"

[Gottfried Schmitt]

More or less settled into the saddle, Greta glanced around, eyes catching the smirk Hauptfeldwebel Kronberg watched her with. Well, perhaps ‘sore’ was a bit of an understatement of his feelings for her. Judging from that look, he would be the happiest man alive if she broke her neck tumbling from this creature’s back right now. Her own eyes narrowed just slightly in return; chances were this would not be the last of the Hauptfeldwebel’s ire to which she would find herself exposed.

"Nicht als ob verwendet zu Pferden dann, Schmitt? Oh so, bin ich sicher, dass es zu Ihnen kommen wird. Versuchen Sie gerade, jetzt nicht zurückzugehen,"

Hauptmann Jäger sounded amused. Was that what she was, then? Some rather grim bit of humor for the officers to share? She barely managed a “Danke schön, Herr Hauptmann,” in response before watching him turn his animal toward a trail away from the stables, a lump of fear and indignity forming in her throat. The Gefreiter handed her the reins with a questioning look, but said nothing, simply stepping out of her horse’s way. Feeling suddenly unbalanced without the man to hold the beast at bay, she held the reins awkwardly and contemplated how to get it to start. At home they would slap the draft horses on the rump and give the command to ‘gehen!’ Somehow she did not think riding horses worked the same way, seeing as the Hauptmann’s appeared to have just sort of started for him. It looked like if it was a show the officers were after, they would certainly get it. She jiggled the reins, hoping the horse would get the idea. It turned its head around at her at this movement, and she froze.

Kronberg watch the hapless Feldwebel for a moment, a plan forming that should prove amusing. Approaching Gottfried’s horse, he asked, "Nachdem wir einige Mühe, ihr zu gehen? Hier sollte diese Hilfe—"

In her preoccupation with the beast below her, Greta had barely a moment to notice the Hauptfeldwebel approach her. She turned around to address him just in time to see his hand come down in a hard slap on the horses’ rump. With a surprised noise it lurched forward, almost knocking the unbalanced Feldwebel from her seat. As it leapt paces ahead, she managed to right herself and haul backwards on the reins. The horse fought her, came up a few inches on its hind legs, then came down again and proceeded to trot the next few meters to be next to its fellow equine. Greta gripped the reins with white knuckles, heart beating faster than she had known it capable. Her face must still be white with the moment’s terror, though she was trying to force herself into the same state of semi-calm that she adopted on the battlefield. She heard a noise, and glanced over to notice the Hauptmann talking to her. He seemed to have taken pity on her and was explaining the mechanics of riding:

"Unterdrücken Sie Ihre Fersen und sitzen Sie gerade bequem. Und hingestellt Ihre Ellbogen, Sie sind nicht ein Flugzeug,"

Greta looked down, only just noticing her splayed posture. She did look like she would be more at home on a tightrope than a horse right now, with good reason considering its recent flight. Of course, she would gladly abandon the beast for the air at this point. They certainly seemed equally dangerous—

"Das ist davon nicht viel verschieden, einen Kämpfer zu führen. Sie beruhigen sich gerade und hören dem Flugzeug zu,” Also du sagst , Greta thought grimly to herself, aber Kämpfer nicht Spuk und kick dich zu Tode an einem schlechten Tag. “Sie wird Ihnen erzählen was zu tun, wenn Sie ihr gerade zuhören. Sie lernen Aufmerksamkeit diesem Gefühl an der Grube Ihres Magens, des Hebens, der Schinderei schenken... Ich würde nicht sagen, dass Pferde viel von Kämpfern verschieden sind, haben sie beide ihre Tricks zu ihnen. Einhaltung ist der Schlüssel. Einige Menschen lernen es gerade nie,"

“Ich würde nie von einem solchen Vergleich gedacht haben, Herr Hauptmann, " Greta replied politely, looking with trepidation at the head of the beast which carried her so placidly at the moment. Her heart was still going more quickly than she would have liked, but there had been no more sudden moves so she was recovering slightly from the earlier scare. She tried to consider his relation between the planes she loved and this terrifying creature, but could not see the similarity herself. "Aber dann habe ich sehr viel Zeit verbracht um Flugzeuge, und nur sehr wenig um Pferde, Herr." She could not keep the slight quaver from her voice as she spoke, and she took another deep breath to calm herself as best she could. It would not do to let the Hauptmann think her a naturally nervous person; so far, it seemed, appearances were just as important as actions among these men. She cleared her throat awkwardly and kept her silence, content to let the Hauptmann speak or not at his leisure. What, after all, did she have to say to this man?

"So. Schmitt Bayerns. Was ist es, der wurde Sie im Fliegen interessiert? War das bloß eine Karriere-Wahl oder ist dort ein tiefer, mehr bedeutungsvolle Geschichte zu Ihnen, sich der Luftwaffe anschließend?"

Apparently ‘what she had to say’ was her life’s story, then. Or rather Gottfried’s. It was funny in a way, Greta thought distractedly, that she had mused just minutes earlier about appearances opposing realities. An upbringing like hers bred people who valued the work a man’s hands could do over the words he could say, and yet the life she led now was spun entirely from verbal illusions. Why did ‘Schmitt of Bavaria’ decide to fly? Why, for that matter, did Greta? How much of Greta’s life could she salvage by spinning it into this façade she had created? She took a moment to consider Hauptmann Jäger’s question.

"Meine Motivation für das Fliegen-sind sehr verschieden von meinen Gründen für den Beitritt zur Luftwaffe, glaube ich, Herr Hauptmann," She said quietly, her musings for the moment alleviating her phobic fixation on the horse below her. "Ich kann mich nicht erinnern, eine Zeit, die ich nicht haben wollte, um zu fliegen, obwohl ich nie geträumt, ich könnte wirklich, bis unser Hof ist fehlgeschlagen. Wenn unsere Eltern gestorben, ich einen Weg zu meiner Schwester und mir Futter benötigt, so wurde ich ein Pilot." She gave a small, humourless laugh, "In einer Weise, nehme ich an all die schlimmen Dinge, die zu unserer Familie passiert ist, was damals ließ mich meinen eigenen Traum zu verwirklichen, so schrecklich wie das klingen mag."

"Was ist der Grund, warum ich Luftwaffe ... nachdem meine Schwester starb, war ich beraubt Zweck. Niemand ist von mir abhängig, und ich dachte, die militärische Macht meine Fähigkeiten der Verwendung finden," Eyes distant, she fell silent. Gottfried’s history was for the most part her own, gender revisions aside; yet again revisiting those moments was a painful experience she did not wish to share. After the short pause, she added in polite tone, "Ich entschuldige mich. Meine Geschichte ist sehr traurig für so ein hübsches Tag, Herr Hauptmann.” Perhaps now he would continue talking and she could go back to being the appreciative listener—Weiss had told her once these officers liked to talk about themselves. She certainly hoped he was correct; right now between the horses and the memories, she did not know how much more of this personal conversation she could handle.


"Nachdem wir einige Mühe, ihr zu gehen? Hier sollte diese Hilfe—"
(“Having some trouble getting her to go? Here, this should help--“)

Also du sagst, aber Kämpfer nicht Spuk und kick dich zu Tode an einem schlechten Tag
(So you say, but fighters do not spook and kick you to death on a bad day)

“Ich würde nie von einem solchen Vergleich gedacht haben, Herr Hauptmann, "
(“I would never have thought of such a comparison, Herr Hauptmann,”)

"Aber dann habe ich sehr viel Zeit verbracht um Flugzeuge, und nur sehr wenig um Pferde, Herr."
(“But then I have spent very much time around planes, and very little around horses, Herr.”)

"Meine Motivation für das Fliegen-sind sehr verschieden von meinen Gründen für den Beitritt zur Luftwaffe, glaube ich, Herr Hauptmann,"
(“My motivations for flying—are very different from my reasons for joining the Luftwaffe I think, Herr Hauptmann,”)

"Ich kann mich nicht erinnern, eine Zeit, die ich nicht haben wollte, um zu fliegen, obwohl ich nie geträumt, ich könnte wirklich, bis unser Hof ist fehlgeschlagen. Wenn unsere Eltern gestorben, ich einen Weg zu meiner Schwester und mir Futter benötigt, so wurde ich ein Pilot. "
(“I cannot remember a time that I did not want to fly, though I never dreamed I truly might until our farm failed. Once our parents died, I needed a way to feed my sister and myself, so I became a pilot.”)

"In einer Weise, nehme ich an all die schlimmen Dinge, die zu unserer Familie passiert ist, was damals ließ mich meinen eigenen Traum zu verwirklichen, so schrecklich wie das klingen mag."
(“In a way, I suppose all the bad things that happened to our family back then is what let me realize my own dream, as terrible as that may sound.”)

"Was ist der Grund, warum ich Luftwaffe ... nachdem meine Schwester starb, war ich beraubt Zweck. Niemand ist von mir abhängig, und ich dachte, die militärische Macht meine Fähigkeiten der Verwendung finden ",
(“As for why I joined the Luftwaffe…after my sister died, I was bereft of purpose. No one is dependent on me, and I thought the military might find my skills of use,”)

"Ich entschuldige mich. Meine Geschichte ist sehr traurig für so ein hübsches Tag, Herr Hauptmann. "
(“I apologize. My story is very melancholy for such a pretty day, Herr Hauptmann.”)

[Rolf Jäger]

Rolf did not remember ever before seeing such a pitiful excuse for a rider and he hooked an eyebrow at Schmitt's pathetic display. The Feldwebel's horse bounced skittishly along, sensing the nervousness of its rider and it was indeed a small miracle that the Feldwebel managed to remain in the saddle. His mount calmed down when it reached its companion and Rolf snorted quietly - he had not expected Schmitt to be so completely hopeless, but maybe his stumbling would provide him with more amusement than irritation. After being questioned about his reasons for joining the Luftwaffe, Schmitt went into a more elaborate explanation than Rolf had expected. The Hauptmann was not entertained by other people's overly long and drastic life stories and he regarded the Feldwebel with a disinterested glance as the young man continued recalling the difficult times of his youth. Rolf did not really put his mind into listening to Schmitt's story and only barely did he manage to register something about dead parents, money troubles, the mention of a sister... Turning his head away for a moment, the Hauptmann raised one hand over his mouth to cover a yawn and just out of pure (and rare) courtesy did he allow the pilot to continue with his story. So, Schmitt was a man from a rather poor family and apparently, he had lost all of his family members in some manner that the man failed to describe to him. Oh, it was such a pity... and certainly something that failed to awaken any empathy in Rolf Jäger.

When it came to putting oneself in someone else's shoes, Rolf just completely lacked the ability to do so. He had always been well off, living in luxury and getting almost anything he could he ever ask for. His only problems in life had circulated around his mother fussing over finding a suitable bride for him and his father worrying over his son's security, especially after he had decided to join the Luftwaffe. He had never lost anyone important to him and had no idea what Schmitt had been going through - nor did he really care. It wasn't his fault that other people faced troubles in life, so why should he ruin his good mood mulling over such things? It was a waste of time and energy, that's what it was, and Rolf could not comprehend why the Feldwebel had figured that such a tiresome story would even interest him.

The leather saddle creaked when Rolf sat up straighter and glanced at Schmitt once he seemed to be done with his story. "Ich entschuldige mich. Meine Geschichte ist sehr traurig für so ein hübsches Tag, Herr Hauptmann," the young man apologized and Rolf snorted at his words. "Ich brauche nicht über Ihre Familie, Schmitt zu wissen. Ich muss nur wissen, ob Sie Ihren Herzsatz beim Fliegen haben oder nicht. Ein Pilot fliegt soviel mit seinem Herzen wie mit seinen Witzen, und ich kann nicht Piloten ohne Begeisterung in meinem Gruppe ertragen - sie bedeuten Schicksal für jeden sonst," the Hauptmann sneered in distaste as he spoke, his voice gruff and hard. "Als ein Gruppenkommandeur sondere ich irgendwelche solche Personen mit einer sehr harten Hand aus. Ich bringe eine Auslesegruppe von Jagdfliegern, und jeder muss im Stande sein, den Sachkenntnissen des anderen Mitgliedes des Rotte völlig zu vertrauen, es entweder der Führer oder der wingman zu sein. Es ist wegen jedes Piloten in meinem Gruppe, und ich werde es das Beste und erfolgreichsten noch machen. Es wird keine unnötigen Verluste in diesem Gruppe geben, so lange ich dafür verantwortlich bin," Rolf tilted his chin up and his grey eyes narrowed as he addressed the Feldwebel more personally again. "Ich hoffe aufrichtig, dass Sie mich beweisen, besitzen Sie sowohl die Meinung als auch das Herz für das Fliegen, Schmitt. Sonst habe ich kein Bedürfnis nach Ihnen. Aber ich vertraue, dass ich mich darüber nicht sorgen muss, nicht...?"

He left the question lingering in the air and his fingers curled tighter around the reins. Rolf had meant every word he said and as arrogant and self-important as the Hauptmann might have been, he took great pride in his Gruppe and made it his point to know the name and face of each pilot. Like a hungry wolf, he would circle around them, snap his teeth at them and see whether they held their ground or broke down under pressure - a strong and unshakable will was one of the most important things required of a successful fighter pilot and it would keep both him and his wingman alive longer. He had not quite made up his mind about the Feldwebel yet and his gaze stern, Rolf stared at the pilot intently to see if the speech had made him nervous. If the man showed signs of weakness at this point, Rolf would already know that he was too weak-willed and spineless for his Gruppe and he would be booted out with such force, he would feel the kick on his behind for weeks.


Translations:

"Ich brauche nicht über Ihre Familie, Schmitt zu wissen..."
"I do not need to know about your family, Schmitt. I only need to know if you have your heart set on flying or not. A pilot flies as much with his heart as with his wits and I cannot stand unenthusiastic flyers in my Gruppe - they spell doom for everyone else."

"Als ein Gruppenkommandeur sondere ich irgendwelche solche Personen mit einer sehr harten Hand aus..."
"As a Gruppenkommandeur I weed out any such individuals with a very harsh hand. I lead an elite group of fighter pilots and everyone needs to be able to completely trust the skills of the other member of the Rotte, be it either the leader or the wingman. It is for the sake of each pilot in my Gruppe and I will make it the best and most successful one yet. There will be no unnecessary losses in this Gruppe as long as I'm in charge of it."

"Ich hoffe aufrichtig, dass Sie mich beweisen, besitzen Sie sowohl die Meinung als auch das Herz für das Fliegen, Schmitt..."
"I truly hope that you prove me you possess both the mind and heart for flying, Schmitt. Otherwise I have no need of you. But I trust I do not have to worry about that, now do I...?"

[Gottfried Schmitt]

While speaking, Greta watched the Hauptmann’s expression go from one of feigned interest to utter boredom. When he turned away to yawn, she felt something akin to anger flash through her; he had asked for her story, did he regret such a decision now? The feeling left a moment later, to be replaced by a familiar hollow sadness. Though she was somewhat perplexed by the odd mood swings she had started experiencing as of late, the Hauptmann would not give her much time for introspection out here, she felt sure. Besides, it was quite probably due to nothing more than a surfeit of stress.

"Ich brauche nicht über Ihre Familie, Schmitt zu wissen. Ich muss nur wissen, ob Sie Ihren Herzsatz beim Fliegen haben oder nicht. Ein Pilot fliegt soviel mit seinem Herzen wie mit seinen Witzen, und ich kann nicht Piloten ohne Begeisterung in meinem Gruppe ertragen - sie bedeuten Schicksal für jeden sonst," Hauptmann Jäger seemed finally through with his polite small talk; this, Greta mused, must be what he really brought her out here for. The hard lump of fear and sadness and anger that had been forming all morning weighed on her chest, making it hard to breathe, but beneath all that emotion some little piece of her dispassionately observed Jäger’s comment about ‘not needing to know her family’. Her drawn-out story had apparently done its job; she doubted he would ask for details about her again. In a way, the Hauptmann was doing her a favour by being so disinterested in the lives of his men. After all, she doubted he would remember a thing about her history, which meant one less person to which she had to worry about what she had previously said. The disinterest of the upper class in those such as she would make this charade so much easier to continue. Another hard smile threatened to break free as she wondered just how far the Hauptmann’s arrogance could be manipulated in her favour.

As much as her insides might be in turmoil, in keeping with the seriousness of the occasion at hand Greta kept her expression closed, eyes watchful as the Hauptmann made his little speech on how he planned to make his flight group the best in the Luftwaffe. Just what did he think to accomplish with this little show?

"Ich hoffe aufrichtig, dass Sie mich beweisen, besitzen Sie sowohl die Meinung als auch das Herz für das Fliegen, Schmitt. Sonst habe ich kein Bedürfnis nach Ihnen. Aber ich vertraue, dass ich mich darüber nicht sorgen muss, nicht...?" The Hauptmann watched her as a hawk eyeing a rabbit; did he expect her to flinch under that gaze? Perhaps the old Greta might have, but already this man was tempering Gottfried through his trials into steel. After all, she had not come this far to be berated by a man like this.

Acid filled Greta’s insides as she regarded her Hauptmann coolly. So this was the test, then? If he had listened to her story at all, he would know the Luftwaffe was the only home left for her. She had become a tool for her country, nothing more, nothing less, something to be used to the greater glory of all. Though she could never tell the Hauptmann, this was far from the first time she had been made to stand her ground before a man, and it would probably not be the last. She meant to fly, and she would show him her conviction. She had no reason to try and convince this man with words alone.

Forcing down her terror at making any movement on the beast below her, Greta drew herself up straight and looked the Hauptmann in the eyes. Lassen Sie uns sehen, wer ist der Räuber heute, she thought. With a salute, crisp if somewhat shaky from her position on the horse, she replied simply, “Nein, Herr Hauptmann, brauchen Sie nicht. Ich bin gekommen, um zu fliegen” before returning to a more balanced position, eyes still on Jäger. Let him make of that what he would; she had never let a man keep her from the air before and Hauptmann Jäger would not be the first.


Lassen Sie uns sehen, wer ist der Räuber heute
(Let us see who is the predator today,)

Nein, Herr Hauptmann, brauchen Sie nicht. Ich bin gekommen, um zu fliegen
(“No, Herr Hauptmann, you do not. I have come to fly,”)

[Rolf Jäger]

The steely gaze of Rolf's eyes remained on the young pilot as they searched for any signs of weakness or hesitation. As uncaring as he might have been towards other people's feelings, he wasn't oblivious to them, and he almost expected to witness Schmitt cracking under the pressure, maybe starting to stutter or hurrying to explain his words. He looked young and somehow... different, although Rolf couldn't quite find a proper reason for this feeling. For some reason he just appeared like the kind of person who would be easily intimidated, but surprisingly enough the Feldwebel met the Hauptmann's gaze coolly, unflinchingly. Schmitt's answer came in a steady voice as he assured the Hauptmann that he did not need to worry over his conviction when it came to flying. Rolf arched his eyebrow silently and studied the young pilot for a moment, but then he tilted his chin up and a low, approving growl formed in his throat. "Das lässt sich hören, Schmitt. Es ist das einzige Ding, das ich wissen musste," the man tightened the hold of the reins when his horse started throwing its head around nervously, wanting to run and release all the extra energy gathered in its muscles. Rolf ignored the energetic mood of his mount and continued with his dialogue, his voice low and raspy. "Wenn ich meine Piloten nicht prüfen würde, dann würde es gerade wie irgendwelcher anderer Gruppe sein, jetzt würde nicht es?" the man asked, although it was clearly a rhetorical question and not really meant to be answered.

He was well aware of the fact that people didn't like him or even really enjoy his company, but this knowledge bothered him little. Most people weren't worth his trouble, anyway, and he didn't need their acceptance or sympathy - he was doing quite fine on his own. The only thing that really mattered to him at the moment - besides himself, of course - was his Gruppe and the pilots that belonged to it. He wasn't the kind of person who was ready to merely do his job, the kind who would tell the men to go into battle and to "get the job done". He only set out to do his best and nothing less, he strived to excel. He would always push both himself and his Gruppe towards the same high standards and he needed to know that all of the pilots were suitable for the task. Still... Schmitt had agreed to accompany him on this riding trip, even though it was obvious that he had no experience whatsoever when it came to riding a horse. In a way it showed him that he possessed some courage within that skinny frame of his and he had, after all, answered his question satisfactorily enough. Schmitt might just survive the initial tests laid out for him and remain in the Gruppe, after all. Rolf wasn't ready to make up his mind quite yet and he decided to consider the matter further at a later time.

The Hauptmann tilted his head to the side as he turned his gaze away from the Feldwebel, stretching the muscles on his neck and upper back to release some of the tension. By now the two riders had arrived on a large, open field, one that had obviously been used as a pasture at some point, although no fences were visible anywhere. Rolf allowed a good, solid moment of silence pass between them and his ears tuned in to listen to the other sounds instead: he could hear the leather of the saddle creaking, the various birds singing in the trees and the steady sound of shod hooves hitting the soft ground. It was one of the rare moments when he felt in peace with his surroundings and his mind shut out the presence of the other pilot and his horse, the existence of the war and the continuous torrent of his own, fast-paced thoughts. He could register the warm rays of the sun on his skin and over his uniform, but the temperature still felt pleasantly warm instead of being uncomfortably hot. Rolf closed his eyes half-way, ignoring the nervous tugs on the reins as the horse pulled against his grip, letting its rider know that it wanted to run. Although it seemed as if Rolf had succumbed completely to this private serenity, his hoarse voice broke the silence again while his eyes still remained half-closed. "Ich werde Sie in den sehr folgenden Ausfall bringen, auf dem wir abreisen werden, Sie als mein Flügelmann statt Kronberg haben. Sie werden eine Chance bekommen, Ihre Sachkenntnisse zu demonstrieren... Schmitt Bayerns," Rolf did not really move his head and he merely regarded the other pilot from the corner of his eyes. His eyes opened fully again and the man sighed, raising his eyebrows at a new sensation. "Einen moment. Ruf der Natur," the man pulled at the reins of his horse, bringing the animal to a stop just as they had reached the corner of the wide field and arrived to the edge of the forest. A smaller, but obviously well-used path continued from the field into the verdant forest, providing for quite the picturesque scenery along the way.

Rolf slid his feet from the stirrups and swung his right leg over the horse, landing down on the ground with the considerable ease of someone who had been around horses since childhood. The Hauptmann rubbed the animal's forehead gently to calm it down and spoke soothing words in a low voice before he slipped the reins over its ears and turned around to regard the other pilot still sitting on his mount. "Hier," Rolf pushed the reins into Schmitt's hand and eyed him thoughtfully, as if doubting whether the man could handle even this simple task, affected by his evident distrust towards horses as he was. Obviously he decided that he could (or that there were simply no other choices) as he turned around and he slipped the riding crop under his arm before starting towards the edge of the forest in relaxed, slow steps. He had not even reached the edge of the woods yet, when the thickets in front of him suddenly burst to life with vigorous snapping of twigs and the Hauptmann froze dead in his spot. He could only register something black flashing in front of him and he ducked his head down on an instinct as three large birds burst from between the branches and flew so close past him, he could feel the powerful torrents created by their wings on his skin. He turned around just in time to witness the riderless horse roll its eyes around in fear, a shrill whinny piercing the previously serene atmosphere as the animal rose to its hind legs and pawed at the air with its hooves.


Translations:

"Das lässt sich hören, Schmitt. Es ist das einzige Ding, das ich wissen musste."
"That's good to hear, Schmitt. It's the only thing I needed to know."

"Wenn ich meine Piloten nicht prüfen würde, dann würde es gerade wie irgendwelcher anderer Gruppe sein, jetzt würde nicht es?"
"If I didn't scrutinize my pilots, then it would be just like any other Gruppe, now wouldn't it?"

"Ich werde Sie in den sehr folgenden Ausfall bringen, auf dem wir abreisen werden, Sie als mein Flügelmann statt Kronberg haben. Sie werden eine Chance bekommen, Ihre Sachkenntnisse zu demonstrieren... Schmitt Bayerns."
"I will take you to the very next sortie we'll be leaving on, have you as my wingman instead of Kronberg. You'll get a chance to demonstrate your skills... Schmitt of Bavaria."

"Einen moment. Ruf der Natur."
"Just a moment. Nature calls."

[Gottfried Schmitt]

Greta eyed the Hauptmann’s nervous mount with apprehension as it threw its head about, for a moment giving Jäger only half her attention. She wondered just what had gotten into the beast, but the Hauptmann seemed content to ignore its behaviour. She did not much care about the approval he expressed at her answer; she knew she was a good pilot, so what did it matter if he thought she had what it took to ‘be part of his gruppe’? From his comment about scrutinizing his pilots, he obviously thought himself the best judge of character available, regardless of the fact that his recruits were given training prior to their being handed into his care. Really his drive to create some ultimate fighting force did not surprise her; she imagined it was just another diversion for this arrogant high class man trying to prove something to himself. She need not respond to his obviously rhetorical question even if she so desired—he could pad his ego just fine by himself.

Now that she had apparently passed the little test her Hauptmann had seen fit to administer, her mind began once again to obsess over the presence of the horse beneath her. It had behaved itself so far, following the Jäger’s horse if not her own directions, but the other horse’s antics had the already nervous mount tossing its own head and whickering. Easy dort schreckliche Kreatur Sie, she thought, her grip loosening on the reins as the equine tried to pull its head away from her. She fumblingly grabbed them again before they could slip away entirely, wondering just how much further the Hauptmann planned on going now that she had completed the trial.

The two rode in silence for a few minutes, Greta automatically scanning the field ahead of them for any other riders or animals. She wondered how long it had been since a farmer brought beasts here to graze, and felt a slight pang at how similar this idyllic pasture was to the areas she grew up in. It was in the middle of this reminder of the life she’d left behind that Rolf spoke, declaring his intention to use her as his wingman instead of Kronberg so she could ‘demonstrate her skills’, as if she had something to prove to him. She noticed with some odd sense of amusement that he persisted in using that odd little almost-nickname he used to refer to her. Surely she couldn’t be the only pilot from Bavaria he had ever met. She wondered what flying a sortie as Jäger’s wingman would be like. It would be far from her first time in the air as a Luftwaffe pilot, but she had never flown with the Hauptmann himself in such a capacity. If it were anyone other than the arrogant Hauptmann, she might have been flattered. As it was, this was yet another apprehension to add on to so many more. She wondered just how Kronberg would take the ‘wonderful’ news. Goodness only knew he obviously did not care for her, judging by his behaviour earlier in the day. It was in the middle of these thoughts that she remembered to bring her fragmented mind enough together to respond to the news with a "Natürlich , Herr Hauptmann. Danke schön. "

With this new revelation to occupy her, Greta was happy to ride in silence, for the rest of the trip if she could. This seemed the Hauptmann’s plan as well until he declared his need to relieve himself. Pausing by the edge of the forest, she watched him dismount with grace before passing his mount’s reins over to her. She gripped them tightly, looking askance at the energetic beast for which she now found herself responsible. A glance in the Hauptmann’s direction had her looking quickly away, a faint blush on her cheeks; he had not done anything yet, but she did not want to be looking when he found himself a spot. Sneaking a sidelong glance back in Jäger’s direction, she turned just in time to see movement as birds exploded from the underbrush, strafing straight past the horses with raucous cries. The Hauptmann’s mount let out a cry and rose to its hind legs, knocking the reins from Greta’s hand. In its frantic pawing at the air, the beast’s hooves passed right by the wide-eyed Feldwebel’s head before striking a glancing blow to her horse’s rump. The second beast let out its own pained scream and bucked forward, throwing Greta straight over its head and to the ground before spinning and galloping away down the path toward the stables. The Hauptmann’s mount let its forelegs hit the grass a moment later as it leapt away after the other. Silence fell on the clearing again, Greta from her place on the ground able to watch as the offending birds became specks in the sky. It took her a few seconds to get her bearings, her brain trying to figure out how exactly everything had gone to hell so quickly and failing miserably. Staggering to her feet with a heart beating so fast it hurt, she turned toward the Hauptmann.

" I—Pferde— " she stammered then trailed off lamely, still unable to come up with anything intelligent to say after what had happened. The silence which had before seemed so relieving now struck her as oppressive. This could not end well.


Easy dort schreckliche Kreatur Sie
(Easy there, you terrible creature)

"Natürlich , Herr Hauptmann. Danke schön. "
(“Of course, Herr Hauptmann. Thank you.”)

" I—Pferde— "
(“I—the horses—“)

[Rolf Jäger]

All hell seemed to break loose after the birds shot out from the forest, screeching and flapping their wings frantically as they headed towards the horses, flying just past their heads before they finally gained altitude and started disappearing up into the sky. Rolf's mount was in a state of sheer panic and after it reared up, its flailing hooves connected with the rump of the other mount. The previously docile mare whinnied in fear and pain and with grace that didn't seem to fit its hefty bulk, whisked its head down and brought the Feldwebel tumbling from the saddle. All of these things happened in such a rapid fashion, Rolf could only stand still and stare, knowing that there wasn't anything he could do to salvage the situation. Schmitt had lost the reins of the other horse the moment it had panicked and it was already running frantically back towards the stables where safety, food and its herdmates were. After losing its rider, the mare whisked its tail around and headed after the other animal, enormous hooves thumping heavily on the soft ground as it made good distance from the horrors it had just faced. Rolf took a few half-hearted running steps after the animals, but he could already see there was nothing to be done. The horses were racing across the field as if they were being chased by a pack of hungry wolves, and they wouldn't slow down until they were back at the stables.

Rolf stared after the horses for a moment, as if the reality of the situation was taking some time to sink in and he blinked slowly, already imagining himself walking back to the stables and facing the grinning faces of the soldiers there. The man gritted his teeth together, the first traces of anger lighting up within him like sparks of electricity. "Scheiße! Scheiße, Scheiße, Scheiße!" the man kicked at the grass in front of him, just to have something to direct his anger at, but it gave him little satisfaction. The nature around him stood as serene as always, not caring if the Hauptmann raged at her or not, the branches of the trees softly swaying in the warm breeze, as if to mock him. Rolf stood in his place, his breathing slowly turning into heavy, angry heaves as he clenched his fingers into fists and his knuckles turned white, the burning feeling within him growing almost unbearable. But.... there was someone to blame for all of this.

Rolf turned his head to the side slowly, regarding the young pilot over his shoulder, narrowed silver eyes burning with cold anger. The rest of his body followed the movement gradually as the man turned around, the fingers on his other hand unfurling just to grab the riding crop still tucked under his arm and then he was already making his way towards the Feldwebel, his fast, long strides both purposeful and irritated. The young pilot had already clambered up from the ground and he was now staring at Rolf, opening and closing his mouth in a rapid fashion, trying to come up with something to say. Seeing the stunned look on Schmitt's face did little to alleviate the wrath that was already rippling dangerously inside Rolf and building up to a fiery, unstable crescendo that could only spell doom on anyone who crossed his path. Even in his current state he realized quite clearly that the outcome of the unlikely disruption was hardly the Feldwebel's fault and that there had been very little he could have done to prevent the situation, but Rolf simply did not care to connect the cause and effect. It was much more gratifying to have at least someone he could blame for the unpleasant interruption of his previously enjoyable riding trip and for the fact that he would, indeed, be walking back to the stables - the mere mental image was humiliating enough. He needed a scapegoat, someone to direct his rage at, even if it meant snapping at his new pilot.

Rolf's lips distorted into a hateful sneer and his eyes settled on the Feldwebel as the first insults slithered from between his clenched teeth like poisonous vipers. "Sie unwissender Dummkopf!" Rolf's words came in the form of a hoarse growl and the tone of his voice became even more grating as he went on. "Ich gebe Ihnen eine Aufgabe, eine einfache Aufgabe, und Sie schaffen zu scheitern! Die Pferde sind weg!" Naturally this was a fact the Feldwebel didn't really need to be reminded of, but with each rage manifested word leaving his lips, the flames of Rolf's wrath rose ever higher until he could feel them scorching him from the inside. The overwhelming, primal sensation entered the blood in his veins and snaked into his muscles and the inevitable desire to strike the young pilot suddenly felt almost overwhelming.

"Ich werde zurück wegen Ihrer spazieren gehen! Verdammt bayerischer Idiot!" Rolf bellowed at the pilot and his arm moved back more on an instinct than actual consideration, bringing the riding crop up menacingly. The sharp sound of the whip cutting through air followed the movement and soon the riding crop connected mercilessly with Schmitt's left arm, the strike fueled by all the anger-induced force stored in Rolf's muscles. This didn't seem to make Rolf quite content and the hand holding the riding crop rose up once again, the red haze of wrath making everything around him appear blurred.


Translations:

"Scheiße! Scheiße, Scheiße, Scheiße!"
"Shit! Shit, shit, shit!"

"Sie unwissender Dummkopf!"
"You ignorant fool!"

"Ich gebe Ihnen eine Aufgabe, eine einfache Aufgabe, und Sie schaffen zu scheitern! Die Pferde sind weg!"
"I give you one task, one simple task and you manage to fail! The horses are gone!"

"Ich werde zurück wegen Ihrer spazieren gehen! Verdammt bayerischer Idiot!"
"I'll be walking back because of you! Bloody Bavarian imbecile!"

[Gottfried Schmitt]

Greta stiffened as the Hauptmann turned around, the cold fury in his eyes like absolutely nothing she had ever seen. Her mouth gaped and she backed away as he advanced, unable to think of anything which might diffuse his anger. He insulted her, working himself into a greater rage with each word, blaming her outright for the horses’ untimely escape and their subsequent stranding. Greta continued to try and appear as unthreatening as possible, automatically falling into a woman’s subservient role as she raised her hands in front of her, desperate to put something between her and the oncoming storm of the Hauptmann’s wrath. She watched him with apprehension, eyes locked onto the riding crop in his hand, afraid to meet her Hauptmann’s gaze and be consumed by the fires within it.

"Ich werde zurück wegen Ihrer spazieren gehen! Verdammt bayerischer Idiot!" He exclaimed, startling the young pilot into looking at his face. She was momentarily stunned by the sheer primal rage concentrated into that moment, wondering faintly how anyone could channel that much anger without physically igniting in the process. The next few seconds passed by with a slow clarity, somehow each movement visible in a way it should not have been. Greta watched Rolf’s arm raise, the riding crop silhouetted against the sky, stepped back as it came down with a sickening crack on her arm. A wave of pain swept out from the site and through her body, darkening her vision into a bloody red. Her mind went blank, body automatically falling into a stance half forgotten from her time in Munich—

— “Fuß zurück und die Hände hoch, Greta. Gebt ihnen eine Öffnung ,” A dingy flat around her, the blonde American looking at her with affection, all laid over the field and the Hauptmann. Her mind detachedly watched his hand come up again for another strike with the crop, body reacting on its own,“Nun, was passiert, wenn ich dies tun ?”—

The voice blasted across her mind, a forgotten memory returned with full clarity in a single moment, and time quickened to a blur as the riding crop fell again. Brain caught in the tide of primal, physical reaction, Greta slipped the blow, bringing her right hand around for a quick jab to the side and using its momentum to direct her left up for a glancing uppercut. Another ripple of pain ran through her with the second blow and her mind snapped back to the present, a belated thought reminding her that the Hauptmann’s first blow had been to her dominant arm. Awake and again in control of her body, the Feldwebel stumbled backwards a few more paces, using the moment following her botched attack to put a bit of distance between herself and the Hauptmann.

Through the ringing in her ears, she noticed the clearing was quieter than ever, even the distant birdsong silenced before the Hauptmann’s anger. Though she had a few paces on him, she had no hope of outrunning the Hauptmann, especially in the kind of rage to which he was currently subject. That blazing inferno had only herself on which to focus, and she had just hit him. There was no taking that back now, self-defence or no. Watching the officer before her warily, she raised her hands again to guard her face, wondering with unease just how much her little boxing training could help her against an officer like Jäger.


Translations:

"Fuß zurück und die Hände hoch, Greta. Gebt ihnen eine Öffnung,"
(“Foot back and hands up, Greta. Don’t give them an opening,”)

"Nun, was passiert, wenn ich dies tun?"
(“Now what happens if I do this?”)

[Rolf Jäger]

The maddened juggernaut that was Rolf Jäger stood imposing in front of the young pilot, his grey eyes blazing with nothing but blind, uncontrolled fury that needed no other fuel than its own kindlings, each growing notion of anger only bringing alive several new ones, until his mind was nothing but a scorching pyre of purest wrath. The muscles in his arm prepared to bring down the riding crop once more to better teach the foolish Feldwebel the consequences of failing, but in his feral state of mind his focus was purely on attack and not defence. As the riding crop cut through the air, so did the Feldwebel's fist and it caught the Luftwaffe officer on the left side of his face, sending fast ripples of pain shooting through his nerves. His mind had not even quite registered the full effect of the first blow, when another one connected with his jaw, the strike far too nimble for him to even notice, let alone to dodge.

Rolf's teeth nearly clamped on his tongue and the riding crop was instinctively dropped by him as he stumbled back, faltering half a step before coming to a teetering stop, his eyebrows severly furrowed and his hand pressing against the side of his jaw as he swayed in his spot. The man's breathing was coming in fast, confused draws and the Hauptmann blinked slowly as he stared somewhere right in front of him, his mind slowly trying to make sense of the events that had just unfolded. The bewilderment was still evident in the man's gaze as it slowly settled on Schmitt once more and the Hauptmann gaped at him, his mouth slightly open, the situation far too outlandish for him to even comprehend. Had the Feldwebel truly just punched him? A commanding officer? Hauptmann Jäger? Baron Jäger?

The confusion lasted only for a few seconds or so, the expression slowly twisting and changing into one of sheer anger, the man's lips withdrawing into a violent sneer while a low growl formed inside his throat, the fast, angry flickers of wrath sparking within his silver irises. He allowed his hand to drop from his jaw while his feral glare burned into the Feldwebel, the young pilot already raising his hands in front of him to repel the incoming attacks. "Was fällt dir einem kommandierender Offizier zu schlagen?" Rolf spat out the words in one, low snarl, his eyes now reflecting some ominous quality of a new sentiment entirely, something bordering on savagery and madness. The traces of pain where only pushing him more effectively towards a state of mind he could not hope to control, the veins upon his neck and arms popping up and his breathing coming in deep, slow heaves. The Feldwebel was retreating away from the Hauptmann, who was momentarily standing still for the mere reason of further building up his rage, before the man finally stepped towards the pilot, his fingers curled into tight fists.

He was far too consumed by his anger to notice any resistance the Feldwebel might have attempted to put up and Jäger's fist only rose next to his face, flying towards the young pilot with cold precision, the initial strike only barely deflected by Schmitt's hands still raised in a defensive posture. The Hauptmann's furor had grown into a raging maelstrom and the second strike came just as fast and merciless, followed by third one and then by a swift kick that brought Schmitt down on the ground, the sharp point of the riding boot further accentuating the viciousness of the attack. Rolf could no longer see the other man's face, could not register his desperate attempts of self-preservation or recall what had ignited his wrath to begin with; blind violence dominated his world, twisting his core and altering it to one of a monstrous beast, void of any sentiments of mercy or justice and when his opponent lay on the ground, he only raised his boot once more and brought it down upon his side with brutal force.

The fiend within him howled for blood, deafening all sounds of reason that might have attempted to surface and only savagery dwelled within the Hauptmann's hateful eyes.


Translations:

"Was fällt dir einem kommandierender Offizier zu schlagen?"
"You dare to hit a commanding officer?"

[Gottfried Schmitt]

Greta could see the change take place in Jäger’s face as what had just happened—what she had just done—registered in his mind. Her heart beat even faster if that was possible, its quick tattoo against her breast making her head light and her hands tingle. His voice seemed muffled and far away as Jäger said lowly,

"Was fällt dir einem kommandierender Offizier zu schlagen?"

Even so, his words cut across the distance between them. Greta flinched again, what was left of her rational mind again screaming at her for what she’d done. If he reported her, what would she do then? Das heißt, another small voice whispered, wenn Sie selbst überlebte die Begegnung hier. Er ist nicht zu befürchten, wie er denn nichts ist.

That moment of weakness, the flinching second as the ramifications of her actions flew back at her in full, was the last thing she knew before the Hauptmann surged through the distance between them with the same power and inevitability as a crashing wave upon some poor skiff gone too far out to sea. She managed to divert his first blow to one side thanks to her raised arms, but the scant defense she could muster crumpled quickly under the stronger man’s blows.

Forgetting herself, she instinctively hunched over to protect her head, leaving vitals open to the Hauptmann’s vicious kicks. He wasted no time in capitalizing on that opportunity, knocking the wind from her and dropping her to the churned up turf below. Her mind went blank with fear, and she let herself curl up, trying desperately to protect organs and face from his continuing attacks. It was all she could do not to whimper and cry at the monster above her, but that at least she was able for the moment to contain. Bewilderment and pain swamped her brain like some aberrant tide, leaving it empty of all but a sense of pure, unadulterated terror. She had no doubt in that moment that the Hauptmann was capable of killing her then and there, and through that fog penetrated only an endless stream of desperate supplications, forgotten prayers mingling with every apology and every plea she’d ever heard until she was sure they must at any second burst forth from her lips to incite that much further rage from the beast whose ire she had so unwisely provoked— Bitte teilen Sie dies über oh Gott im Himmel werden wir es über lass ihn nicht verletzt mich nicht mehr oh Gott es tut mir leid Es tut mir leid Es tut mir leid Es tut mir leid—

Then, mercifully before she could utter even a single damning word, the Hauptmann brought his boot down upon her side with all the mercy of a man crushing an insect beneath his heel. The white-hot pain as she felt something give then crack beneath the force of his blow ripped a sharp cry from her throat. The shock of the pain caused her to loosen her tightly curled form just slightly, shifting the injured area and sending a second, worse wave of agony through her. Fighting the blackness invading her vision, she scrabbled at the dirt, trying to rise, to get away, to something—as a third wave of pain swept through her middle and left her limp on the ground, unconscious at the maddened Hauptmann’s feet.


Translations:

Das heißt...wenn Sie selbst überlebte die Begegnung hier. Er ist nicht zu befürchten, wie er denn nichts ist.
(That is...if you even survive the encounter out here. He’s not feared as he is for nothing)


Bitte teilen Sie dies über oh Gott im Himmel werden wir es über lass ihn nicht verletzt mich nicht mehr oh Gott es tut mir leid Es tut mir leid Es tut mir leid Es tut mir leid—
( Please let this be over oh God in Heaven let it be over don’t let him hurt me anymore oh God I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry— )

[Rolf Jäger]

Rage like white hot coals burned within Rolf's chest and he gazed upon the man crumpled up upon the green summer grass with savage fury in his steel-grey eyes and he wanted to destroy more, everyone, everything! Anyone finding themselves foolish enough to stand in his way would suffer pain, and the tall man's fingers curled into violent fists as the sentiment scorched at him and he could not tell an ally from a foe in his world of savagery, where everything was always maliciously working against him. The Hauptmann breathed out in long and uncontrolled gasps, every muscle in his body strung at the prospect of wreaking havoc upon the other pilot, the blood in his veins singing a frenzied song of bloodshed... yet still the man only snarled, turning around with that low growl and his boots already stomping heavily upon the blades of grass as he made his way away from his subordinate in long, angry strides. He would have certainly answered to the dark call of his heatedly running blood had the other pilot provided any further resistance, but left defeated on the ground as he had been, Rolf had not felt provoked enough to continue with his brutal onslaught.

No, he was walking away from the young pilot, instead, his eyebrows still set into a hateful frown and his face nothing but a cold mask void of any other emotions but raw rage, like an avenging god risen from the seas to avenge his foes of ill deeds of generations past - but of course, there was nothing quite as noble in his rage, although the sentiment was almost omnipotent in its simple purity, that single feeling strong enough to cloud the officer's mind and to have him even forget that it was his subordinate that he was attacking. Rolf was set on walking back to the stables, not really even considering the fact that the other pilot would be left abandoned upon the grassy field to suffer from his injuries in the neutral silence of the forest, but then his steps slowed down and a flash of a more humane irritation passed through the silver of his irises. He stood silent in his place, his fingers still forming fists while he appeared to hesitate, a more measured exhale leaving through his lips as his eyes narrowed and he attempted resisting the urge to glance behind him, not really quite wanting to see the destruction that his temper had caused.

He had been too harsh, this much he could realize even through his agitated state, and as fresh an addition as the young pilot was to his Gruppe, he was still to be one of his pilots, a man who was to trust him and his guidance in the sky, and something akin to guilt twinged at the Hauptmann's insides. Rolf's lips twisted into a snarl, the strong jaw jutting forwards as he attempted willing himself into continuing his journey back to the stables, but then he turned around with a growl and trudged back to the fallen pilot, instead. The young man was still curled up into a defensive position upon the ground, his face pale and eyes closed as he remained static in the midst of the bent blades of green grass, and for a moment Rolf though that he had killed him, that he had in his rage injured the other pilot so severely that he had unknowingly taken his life, but as he crouched down to bring his face closer to inspect the curiously lithe young man, he could see his side rising and falling in the rhythm of slowly measured breathing. The Hauptmann exhaled in relief and then raised a hand to nudge at the man's shoulder as if he was prodding at a reeking corpse of a dead animal, and the man's shoulder merely rolled with the contact, his eyelids remaining closed and unmoving.

Rolf could not well leave him here and he had to do something, but he was not a doctor, but a lawyer, and then, wouldn't taking him back to the stables mean that the truth about the Hauptmann's savagery would be revealed and he was to suffer the consequences of his uncontrolled rage? No... He could not have that, yet he could not leave the young pilot on his own in the middle of the forest, either. Medical attention was most certainly needed and no matter how he attempted looking at the situation, the inevitability and importance of his help could simply just not be discarded. With a hoarse, characteristic grumble Rolf grabbed at the lapels of the man's military tunic and shook him, only causing his head to roll from one shoulder to the other limply, and it was then when Rolf brought the palm of his hand into a harsh slap, the sharp snap of the strike echoing from the nearby trees.

"Wach auf!" The Hauptmann's coarse command was sharp and militaristic, the man already raising his hand into another swift strike should the man not feel compelled to obey, but then he could see the other pilot's eyelids fluttering slightly, his senses working slowly and sluggishly from the pain and confusion. Rolf gave him a few moments to come around, his eyes searching his face as if they were to look out for any alarming signs concerning his condition, but as Schmitt slowly came to his bearings, the Hauptmann's grey eyes narrowed and he tilted his chin up, not quite knowing how to handle the after-effects of his fury and hence choosing to demonstrate his overflowing confidence, instead.

"Hörst du mich, Schmitt? Ich nimmst du zu den Ställen zurück und holst du dir Hilfe. Aber du flüstern ein Wort darüber nicht, was hier geschah. Du fielst von einem Pferd und wurden getrampelt," the Hauptmann growled, his teeth flashing like the canines of a stalking predator and his eyes reflecting the same fervent fire that had lead to the unfortunate pilot's injuries, that one look warning him off and promising him that the consequences of his disobedience would be anything but pleasant. "Habst du das verstanden?" he hissed the question through his teeth. "Hast du?" he repeated hoarsely and the fingers curled around the young man's collar clenched further around the dark-blue canvas, the Hauptmann's smoldering eyes set upon the young man's distressed countenance, and it was only when he had heard him agreeing to his command that he let go of his collar, allowing the man to slump back upon the grassy ground.

Rolf's eyes fixated momentarily upon the route that would take them back to the stables and he considered the length of the journey they would have to take back, and then back at the man, quite well realizing that he could not make the trip on his own. With a dissatisfied grumble, Rolf stood up straighter and bent down to pick up the other man, pulling him back to his feet by his arm despite his pained protests and after he had managed to haul the young pilot back to his feet, he pulled his arm around his own shoulder to properly steady him. Rolf glanced at him once more, at the whimpering and pained young man who had so severely suffered from the punishment of his hand, and his eyes narrowed dangerously as he met his gaze, that one cold glance communicating enough warning to have him accept his assistance - whether he wanted it or not - and telling him that it was very vital for Schmitt not to forget the pledge he had made. With one slow raise of his eyebrow, the Hauptmann started hauling the injured man back along the grassy path running through the clearing, and he blankly stared ahead of him, into nothingness, maybe into his own soul, the darkness in front of him almost comforting in its ominous and unbroken silence.


Translations:

"Wach auf!"
"Wake up!

"Hörst du mich, Schmitt? Ich nimmst du zu den Ställen zurück und holst du dir Hilfe. Aber du flüstern ein Wort darüber nicht, was hier geschah. Du fielst von einem Pferd und wurden getrampelt."
"Can you hear me, Schmitt? I am taking you back to the stables and get you help. But you do not breathe one word about what happened here. You fell of a horse and got trampled."

"Habst du das verstanden?
"Is that understood?"

"Hast du?!"
"Is it?!"

[Heiko Alkema]

Moderation[/b]

Ralf Jaeger[/i] - 22CP

Gottfried Schmitt[/i] - 22CP
[/color]

2 Skill Points for all.