And When He Gets to Heaven ( Liesl )

[2nd Lt. John P. McCreary]

December 23rd, 1944

John sat in his foxhole, his rifle propped up next to him. He had been here for only a few days, but it seemed like months. The Germans, after being pushed back through France and into Germany, staged an ambitious offensive through the Ardennes in a massive attempt to break the Allied line. John’s unit was one of many called up from the American reserves to reinforce the line. In his case, he was defending the town of Bastogne. Elements of the 28th Infantry Division had been tasked with holding the line, but when the Panzers had rolled in, they were in need of reinforcements. A contingent of the 3rd Infantry Division—his unit—along with the 501st PIR, 27th Glider Infantry, and the 506th PIR were deployed.

It was a strange feeling being out here again. He was fighting alongside his old unit—the 501st—and although he hadn’t necessarily been in contact with his battalion, it almost felt the way it did back in Normandy and Holland. The men directly under his command were not paratroopers, but they were just as dedicated, just as resilient as his comrades. He couldn’t be prouder. In the course of three days he had lost six men—six—out of a platoon of twenty-four to artillery, snipers, machine guns, and grenades. He could remember all of their names. He had just finished the letter to the family of the sixth—Michael Saunders. The man—or boy, considering the fact that he was seventeen—lied about his age to get into the Army, and had seen his first combat only hours before his death.

It was hard, writing these letters. It had always been hard. He was responsible for the man, he had been under his authority. Everything he did, everything he was called to do was a direct result of one of his orders. And yet he had died. He had died and there had been nothing he could have done about it. But he couldn’t help but feel guilty, because he had been unable to prevent his death. He felt guilty that he hadn’t told him to move fast enough, that he hadn’t been close enough to push him down, to get him into cover—to have done anything. War made a man feel so helpless.

They were supposed to be fighting for democracy. Every death, every bullet, was supposed to make a difference. But all John saw right now was carnage—so much carnage—meaningless carnage. Had they not been winning? Hadn’t they pushed the Germans back? Wasn’t the war supposed to be over by Christmas? That was what he had been told. That was what they all had been told and here he was in his foxhole, in the middle of the Ardennes, at about nine or ten two days before Christmas. Had Market Garden been successful, he could have been at home, in his living room with his parents and brother.

He knew it was no good for his mind to dwell on that, but he couldn’t help it. He had the eerie feeling that his war would be over soon, but he didn’t share it with his men. He stayed upbeat, positive, and outwardly in control. If he was going to die, he would die with a sound mind and fists swinging. Surrender would only come in order to save the lives of his men, never his own. He was a paratrooper, and thus used to being surrounded, but this was like nothing he had ever seen. Wave after wave assaulted them, and though they hadn’t been significantly pushed back, he didn’t know how much longer they could keep this up, especially with their dwindling amount of supplies.

All was quiet on their end of the front. Men smoked, said prayers, wrote letters, and drank water from their canteens as they waited for the inevitable German attack. John was writing a letter to Liesl. He was visibly tired, and hadn’t shaved for the few days he was here, so a dark beard and mustache were already forming on his face. His helmet was tilted back slightly, and a few tufts of black hair fell over his forehead. His intent blue eyes glided over the paper as he wrote what he realized may be his last letter.

Dear Liesl,
My last letters were rather short, as I haven’t had as much time to write as I would like, but this one will hopefully compensate. As I stated in my previous letters, I am now at the front. I lost six men in three days. I know it’s just something that I have to deal with—that I’ve dealt with—but somehow I can’t help but feel partially responsible. An officer is supposed to lead his men…leading men into battle can of course result in death, but I’m supposed to get the job done with minimal casualties. I’ve never seen combat like this before. Not in Normandy, not in Holland…and I have the feeling that I haven’t seen the worst of it.

Still, I have to have faith that things will work out—that I can hang on until the end. I want nothing more than to see you again. The sooner the war is won, the sooner I can. More importantly, the actions of myself and my men—along with all of the Allied forces involved—are crucial in the grand scheme of things. The oppressed peoples of Europe are counting on us to defeat Hitler in order to create a better world, a world in which every man can fully realize basic human rights—to be able to speak without fear of reprisal, to pursue his dream in a world of peace, not war. What happens here, I am certain, will shape the future of the world as we know it. For better or for worst is yet to be determined.

If I die here, I know it will be for a purpose far greater than myself. If I die here, as Dickens wrote, ‘It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to, than I have ever known…’

He stopped, his hand shaking but managed to steady it as he continued writing: I don’t claim to be a hero—I don’t want to be a hero, but I’m not afraid of dying for a cause I believe in, and the cause of this war is one that, without a doubt, I believe is just. My father always told me to ‘stick to my guns’—well, I doubted that I’d ever do it literally, but that’s exactly what I plan to do. I am—and always will be—a paratrooper. Each man beside me will fight to the death if necessary, and I am ready and willing to do the same.

I doubt this letter will ever reach you, but I would just like you to know that—

He stopped writing when he heard artillery in the distance. The man next to him, a private about his age, bolted upward. He hadn’t been asleep, but he had been reclining and staring off into the distance. His thoughts were a mystery to John, but he had a feeling that he was thinking about his own mortality as well. Another shell landed—in the trees about a hundred yards from their position. “Get ready to move!” he shouted over the line. He then turned to the green-eyed man next to him. “Are you alright, Parker?”

Parker nodded. The man was a veteran from the unit’s landings in Southern France—even though he was no stranger to combat, he knew that deep inside he was still shaken, just like his commanding officer. He clapped him on the shoulder reassuringly before tucking his letter into his coat pocket and grasping his rifle.

Just then, a shell exploded, causing a tree to fall into a foxhole to their left. “Move!” he yelled. “Stay down, get to cover!” The lieutenant ordered, crawling out of his foxhole and bending over, sprinting over the snow. “There’s a farmhouse through the trees—we’ll set up an OP there! Move it, third platoon, let’s go, let’s go!” The men followed him, but so did the shells. Parker was hit, and he heard him scream a few yards behind him. One of the men stopped to pick him up, but the two vanished when a shell landed right on top of them. A few men gawked, and John screamed, “Keep moving, don’t stop!” as he sprinted through the woods.

He could hear explosions all over the place—and from his training he knew that it was okay if he heard them. If he didn’t—

He felt dizzy, and the ground beneath him began to shake. He was on his knees for some reason…he tried to get up, but the snow kept getting closer and closer—and then all went black.

He woke up lying on his face, which he could barely feel it because it was so goddamned cold. He looked up—all was quiet…at the darkened sky. All he could see was the moon and a couple of stars. He kept his head low in case there were enemy troops in the area. He could walk easily enough—which was a good sign. Nothing hurt…he supposed the force of the blast had simply knocked him out cold. There seemed to be no sign of friendly troops—his men must have taken him for dead and kept moving. That was good…as long as they were safe.

He started off in the direction of the farmhouse he had tried to lead them to. When he finally reached it, he uttered the password, “Jitter.” The reply was supposed to be ‘bugs’. But there was no reply. He raised his rifle and kicked the door open, swiveling his aim from side to side. He looked up to the second floor and then reached into his musette bag for his flashlight. He shone it about the area, keeping his hand on his pistol. No one was there. Where is my platoon? he wondered silently as he made his way to the second floor. He took a seat on a box next to the window, but far enough into the corner so he wouldn’t be an easy target. Looking out over the only entrance, he would be able to see everything coming in or out. All he could do for now is wait until morning.

[Liesl Von Stauffenberg]

The snow fell like thick blankets over head. Liesl’s teal-blue eyes were cast towards the cloudy grey sky…it was cold...too cold. The small fire in the field hospital near the German lines gave very little comfort. Liesl quietly rubbed her arms gingerly as the unsettling silence began to settle in…she knew very well this was just the calm before the storm. Around this time Liesl found some time to write…She quietly walked over to a fallen tree and sat on it, slipping out her journal that was at the bottom of her medical bag. She looked down at the gloves she wore…they were in fact john’s she felt they gave her good luck when she was sent to field hospitals. So far she hasn’t been caught in any crossfire. A small smile grew on her pink lips as she opened the leather bound journal to a blank page, pulling out a pencil:

Dear John,

It’s been weeks since I’ve seen civilization…I never knew how much I could miss a warm shower. So much little things I miss….so many things I take for granted. There has been so much death happening on my side of the lines…I’m sure you share the same experiences too. I have to admit…I would much rather be back in the hospitals than here…at least there I would have a roof over my head and not to mention a bed.

Though, I suppose I should tell you what has happened in the past couple days since my last letter. I’m sorry I haven’t written much in the others…nothing quite has changed. You know how it is in the hospitals…wounded come in and out like some sort of factory assembly line. Again…It’s hard to see so much death in one day…it’s even harder to see a patient die by your own hands. I feel like I can’t do anything right John…I swore that I would devote my nursing career to preserve life…not take it. It’s kind of funny…I wasn’t afraid to die at first…dying to save a life…dying for the grater good…but after I met you, it seems my look on life have seemed to change a bit. I would be disgracing our promise, if I allowed myself die here…I can’t afford to break that.

It’s strange…sometimes I find myself wishing to see you again…I suppose you can say you are my drive to want to see a better future. You know…just a few weeks ago before I was sent here…I was actually back in Austria. Not quite home…but close. I found some Edelweiss…well, I hope a soldier like you might appreciate a small hint of beauty from where I come from. It has an interesting symbolic meaning…My father; he served in the Great war like countless others. He had an Edelweiss tucked in his uniform collar. It was granted to the German alpine troops, for their bravery. I figured I’d give this to you…hoping...perhaps it might bring you good luck.

But, I guess for now I’ll just preserve it between the sheets of my journal till I see you…when I see you—…



Liesl was cut off in mid thought when she heard a commotion. She looked down at her journal for a moment taking once last glance at the small flower, before shutting the journal closed. She quickly shoved it into her medical bag. “ Was ist hier los?” she asked one nurse. The nurse shook her head frantically and began to make her way back into the tent to attend to wounded soldiers. Liesl stood there a bit dumbfounded, listening intently as she heard distant gunfire. A shiver ran down her spine thinking that John was somewhere in that. God please... she prayed. She bit her bottom lip slightly trying to push the thought of John dying out there out of her mind. No! She couldn’t afford to think that way…he promised he’d find her again. Somehow…someway…she had to believe that she would see him again.

It only took about a few hours for the gunfire and the artillery to die down…to Liesl, it seemed forever…she was on pins and needles the whole time. She couldn’t think right…heck she couldn’t wrap up clean bandages and put them away neatly. Her gaze would travel towards the German lines every few moments…hoping…praying that John wasn’t caught in the crossfire. “You!” Liesl jumped instantly when she heard a harsh voice of a soldier call out to her. “Ja??” she asked timidly. The solder rolled his eyes, “Komm mit mir! Wir werden für die Verwundeten zu suchen!” he replied harshly tugging her by the arm with a firm grip.

Liesl stumbled to her feet. Her legs felt numb and stiff from the cold…without any protests she followed the soldier along with a few medics and other nurses. It was a rather cold night…but a beautiful star lit sky…it seemed rather ironic due to the events that happened today. The search group dispersed looking for those who were still alive. Liesl’s boots trudged through the ankle deep snow as she searched for wounded soldiers…alive wounded soldiers.

A shot rang through the night air whizzing past her. Liesl sucked in a deep breath suppressing a scream. Out of instincts she burst into a run, tripping over what felt like a log…only it wasn’t a log. She propped herself up in the snow, turning to see that she had in fact tripped over a dead body. The cold glazed eyes stared right back at her…it seemed to burn holes into her head. She’s seen horrible…much more horrible scenes before…but this…seeing a dead man…frozen dead man staring back at her seemed to top the cake. She quickly scrambled to her feet desperately looking for cover as a few more gun shots missed her.

She spotted a farmhouse and quickly ran to it…silently hoping she could take shelter there until it was safe.

Translations:

“ Was ist hier los?” – What’s going on?

“Komm mit mir! Wir werden für die Verwundeten zu suchen!” - Come with me! We're going to search for the wounded!

[2nd Lt. John P. McCreary]

It was funny how, even in the most dangerous of circumstances, a soldier could feel like going to sleep. Whereas a normal person would be scared beyond his wits and unable to even think about sleep, John was tired. Perhaps it was all that running and being passed out for God knew how long. But he knew better than to think that he could sleep. If he went to sleep, he was a dead man. One of two things could happen. The enemy would find him and bayonet him in his sleep, or he could freeze to death.

Already he felt cold. He was wearing his old reinforced M42 jump jacket, with a tanker jacket and overcoat over it, along with his M43 jump trousers, boots, and a new pair of gloves. This was over his knit sweater and wool officer’s shirt—for all intents and purposes he should have been warm. He was from New York, he was used to cold winters, but he had never spent his winters outdoors at night like this. The temperature was dropping.

He looked down at his hands, realizing they were shaking and gripped his rifle tighter. He fumbled in his tanker pocket for his Lucky Strikes—he had two left, he had given the others to his men, and managed to light it. Either way, he was going to die—what should it matter if the Germans found him first? He took a long drag on the cigarette and sighed, his shoulders dropping as he immediately felt warmth. He rested his back against the wall of the farmhouse, cradling his rifle like a baby. How long would he be here? His men had probably reported him KIA, so he doubted that anyone would come looking for him. Tomorrow—if he survived the night—he would try to find his way back to friendly lines.

He sat there silently for several minutes, thinking of home. His parents were probably decorating the tree with George and his family. His mother would probably bake a ham for the McCreary clan for Christmas Day, and on Christmas Eve they would probably go caroling as they did when he was a child…no, he didn’t want to think of home. Instead he thought of Liesl. He looked down at his new gloves, remembering the ones he had given her, and her hands and how they had felt in his—

John sat up when he heard footsteps. They had found him. He didn’t of course know that whoever had entered was a German, but he didn’t want to expose himself and take his chances. He silently stood up, moving swiftly down the hayloft and onto the first floor of the barn. He hid in a corner, watching as the shadow entered and fingered his knife. He couldn’t afford to shoot in case there were others outside. He unsheathed the knife and crept forward, hand on the German’s shoulder—but froze when he realized that it wasn’t a soldier he had been about to kill. “Liesl!” he uttered in shock, dropping his knife and embracing her. The odds of them meeting again were about one in a million, and yet here they were. “I can’t believe this…”

[Liesl Von Stauffenberg]

Liesl squeezed herself through the entrance of the farmhouse. Her heart practically hammered against her chest…her whole being was shaken by the near death experience. If she had been slower a bullet would have pierced right through her and no one would be there to help her. She bit her bottom lip, suppressing a frightened sob. She pressed the back of her hand against her mouth trying to collect herself and focus. At these times she would have checked if she was still alive and not dreaming she made it to the farmhouse unscaved….instead her mind decided to wonder and think of John. He would have been through a situation similar to this…he wouldn’t be near to crying if he knew he survived.

Admittingly she wished he was here…just hearing his voice at least would give her a sign that he was still alive. She couldn’t see the corpse she tripped over very well…her stomach sunk slightly coming to the conclusion that it might have been John. She felt herself fall back against the wooden wall, “ Scheiße…” she breathed trying to hold back threatening tears that wanted to spill from her eyes. Why did she allow herself to form feelings towards this soldier…never the less an Allied American soldier, he was an enemy! She should have known this would happen to him…this is what happens in a war! You fight…if you’re not fast enough you die. Survival of the fittest is what this war was all about…those who died were the unlucky ones; and to Liesl…John might have met that fate.

She gripped her shoulders feeling the cold finally sink in as her adrenaline started to diminish from her. Her uniform cloak gave little warmth…actually the uniform itself wasn’t much to keep the cold away. The only thing that was keeping her warm was the wool socks her mother had sent her for Christmas. It was a small gift…but it was enough to make her think she was still in her parent’s thoughts and prayers. She exhaled a white wispy cloud of warm air and began to walk through the farmhouse…she at least needed something that could help her get back to the German lines.

She quickly sucked in a quick breath when she heard footsteps…frankly she thought this farmhouse was abandoned. There were no Axis soldiers that followed her…so it might be one of the Allied soldiers. God no…who knows if they are anything like John…most of them…regardless if she was a nurse would just shoot her on sight just because she was a nurse serving under the Axis. Based on that thought, the soldier will most likely think she is one in the same…nothing but a blood thirsty monster who likes to murder people.

Her eyes widened slightly when she saw the form of a person hidden in a shadowed corner. She gasped taking a step backwards ready to scream for help. Screaming might alert the others if they were close…which in fact they weren’t. So screaming would probably give her time to make a break for it and take her chances at getting shot outside by the Allies.

Just when she was about to scream; the soldier uttered something…his voice—it sounded so familiar. Could it be? she thought. A sheer feeling of relief and overwhelming happiness consumed her when her gaze fell on John. What are the odds…she couldn’t believe she was here, he was here. It seemed like some sort of illusion or dream…whatever it was she didn’t want it to end. When he pulled her into a tight embraced…she finally convinced herself he was here…and alive. She hugged him back tightly gripping the back of his coat, “ Ich fand eine Leiche da draußen ... II dachte, dass es Sie ... Ich dachte, Du warst es ....” she rambled trying to keep herself calm and collected. As much as she tried; she couldn’t stop herself from shaking.

Translations:

“ Ich fand eine Leiche da draußen ... II dachte, dass es Sie ... Ich dachte, Du warst es ....” – I found a corpse out there...I-I thought it was you...I thought It was you....

[2nd Lt. John P. McCreary]

John held Liesl tightly as she hugged him back. He didn’t think he would ever see her again—he had almost lost hope. He didn’t want to let go, but he did just enough to look at her and assure himself that she, that this, was real. “Ich habe dich vermisst.” he murmured softly, swaying slightly. “Ich schrieb Ihnen jeden Tag, so wie ich versprochen habe. Ich konnte nicht aufhören an dich zu denken.” he said with a smile, gazing down at her. But that smile faded when he realized that she was shaking. “You’re trembling…are you cold? Here…” Despite the fact that he himself had been nearly freezing before, he took off his overcoat and wrapped it around her shoulders.

He then realized that she was not shaking simply because of the cold. She said that she thought she had seen his body lying in the snow, and his arms wrapped around her again. “It’s alright…Ich bin hier, Liesl, das ist in Ordnung ...” he repeated in German. Was it really? For how long? How long would it take for either side to find them? If his men got there first, he’d tell them to stand down of course, and chances were he would outrank whatever patrol might stumble through the area. However if it was the Germans that found them first…

But John shook the thought from his head and patted her on the back before releasing her from the embrace. He raised a gloved hand to her cheek and smiled reassuringly. “We’re together now—it’s fine.” Even as he spoke he could hear shells going off in the distance. The battle was still far away, but he knew that it wouldn’t stay that way forever. But still it seemed as if they were far enough removed from the fighting that the war didn’t even matter anymore. It was as if they were in their own little bubble, in which there were no borders, no nations, and no wars. It was ironic considering the fact they were on two opposing sides, but that didn’t stop him from being drawn to her.

“Here, I’ll shut the doors…” he stated quietly as he walked over to said doors, closing each one. It left the farmhouse a bit dark save for the pale gleam of moonlight that shown down from the hayloft—it was enough for them to see while they were inside, and the closed doors would make it much more difficult for anyone to find them. He picked up the knife lying at his feet and sheathed it again before striding back over to the nurse. “Are you alright?” he asked concernedly. She had been worried about him, it would seem. While he didn’t want to give her any reason to worry, it was nice to know that someone else besides his immediate family truly, genuinely cared whether he lived or died. He didn’t expect that woman to be his technical ‘enemy.’

He stuck his hands in his pockets and exhaled, his breath showing up in the air in front of him as he did. “Ich kann nicht glauben, dieses Wetter ... und es wird schrecklich kalt bis in den Nordosten, also sollte ich, um es zu verwenden.“ he observed lightly with a chuckle. His easygoing demeanor was an attempt both to calm her and to break the tension, but he wasn’t sure how good of a job he was doing of either. “Mein Mann und ich waren unter schwerem Artilleriefeuer und ich musste einen Rückzug zu bestellen - zu diesem Bauernhaus. Wir fielen zurück von unseren Positionen, sondern eine Schale ging nicht zu weit von wo ich stand, und die Gehirnerschütterung muss mich bewusstlos geschlagen haben.“ he started to explain. “I woke up and my men were gone, so I made my way to the farmhouse alone. I was going to stay here until daylight.“

Translations

Ich habe dich vermisst. – I missed you.

Ich schrieb Ihnen jeden Tag, so wie ich versprochen habe. Ich konnte nicht aufhören an dich zu denken. – I wrote to you every day, just as I promised. I couldn't stop thinking about you.

Ich bin hier, Liesl, das ist in Ordnung ... – I'm here, Liesl, it's alright...
Ich kann nicht glauben, dieses Wetter ... und es wird schrecklich kalt bis in den Nordosten, also sollte ich, um es zu verwenden. – I can't believe this weather...and it gets terribly cold up in the Northeast, so I should be used to it.

Mein Mann und ich waren unter schwerem Artilleriefeuer und ich musste einen Rückzug zu bestellen - zu diesem Bauernhaus. Wir fielen zurück von unseren Positionen, sondern eine Schale ging nicht zu weit von wo ich stand, und die Gehirnerschütterung muss mich bewusstlos geschlagen haben. – My men and I were under heavy artillery fire and I had to order a retreat--to this farmhouse. We fell back from our positions but a shell went off no too far from where I was standing, and the concussion must have knocked me unconscious.

[Liesl Von Stauffenberg]

“I missed you too.” She said in English hugging John tightly, “So wie ich auch .. Ich schrieb jeden Tag.” said Liesl quietly against John’s shoulder. She gazed back up at him, seeing his smile fade. He seemed to panic that she was shaking, “ Nein, nein ... John Mir ist nicht kalt.” she insisted. Though, she should have known he wouldn’t listen. She watched as he took off his overcoat, wrapping it around her shoulders, “John…Krankheit ist ein Killer hier draußen für einen Soldaten. Mir geht es gut ... Ich brauche keine zusätzliche Wärme. Denken Sie daran, ich bin nicht immer hier in der Front.” she paused looking at him, “ Ich dachte, du weg warst ...” she choked a bit as John pulled her back into an embrace.

She listened as he tried to calm her…but, the fact that she thought John had met his fate out there and so soon made her tremble. She knew she wasn’t suppose to care nor look twice at someone like of him. So far, hugging…holding, John physically seemed to calm the storms of her mind. She forced a smile as John placed a gloved hand to her face…she wanted to make sure she had a smile on her face as long as she was with John. She didn’t want him to see her worried or even more crying.

A familiar warmth made Liesl smile at what John said. Even though there were a few explosives going on outside, she felt that the war and the differences between their sides wouldn’t come between them for now. She felt her stomach drop slightly when John had to pull away from her…she watched him carefully as he went to go shut the door. He seemed exhausted…war ridden. He seemed somewhat of a far cry from the John she last met, Has the war gotten to him? she wondered to herself. She quickly directed her attention back at him when he asked if she was alright, “Y-yes…I’m fine.” she stammered, “But the real question is…are you alright?” she said making her way towards him.

“ Das ist Europa ... harten Winter noch schöner Sommer.” she mused back with a forced smile. She knew he was trying to make her feel better, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was bothering him. She listened quietly as he explained what had happened to him and that he was planning to leave in the morning, “Till morning?” she repeated, “John…Wie sicher sind Sie, dass es wird auch sicherer für Sie am Morgen zu verlassen?” she asked with a hint of worry in her voice.

Catching the tone of her voice she shut her mouth quickly, “Sorry…I didn’t mean…”her voice drifted off to silence. It was quiet for a few moments while Liesl stood there silently wishing John didn’t have to leave. She didn’t want him to go. It was a selfish thing to think but…she didn’t want to lose him, “John” she began as she reached into her medical bag. She shuffled through the bag briefly before pulling out a leather bond journal, “Ich hier sind die Buchstaben ... Ich hoffe, sie sind nach Ihren Wünschen ... I.. Ich schreibe normalerweise keine Briefe zu oft ...” she said holding the journal before her as her cheeks flushed a shade of pink.


Translations:

“So wie ich auch .. Ich schrieb jeden Tag.” - As did I...I wrote everyday.

“ Nein, nein ... John Mir ist nicht kalt.” - No no...John I'm not cold.

“John…Krankheit ist ein Killer hier draußen für einen Soldaten. Mir geht es gut ... Ich brauche keine zusätzliche Wärme. Denken Sie daran, ich bin nicht immer hier in der Front.” - John...Sickness is a killer out here for a soldier. I'm fine...I don't need extra warmth. Remember I'm not always here in the frontlines.

“ Ich dachte, du weg warst ...” - I thought you were gone...

“ Das ist Europa ... harten Winter noch schöner Sommer.” - That's Europe...harsh winters yet beautiful summers.

“John…Wie sicher sind Sie, dass es wird auch sicherer für Sie am Morgen zu verlassen?” - How sure are you that it will be safer for you to leave in the morning?

“Ich hier sind die Buchstaben ... Ich hoffe, sie sind nach Ihren Wünschen ... I.. Ich schreibe normalerweise keine Briefe zu oft ...” - I here are the letters...I hope they are to your liking...I..I don't normally write letters too often...

OOC: Sorry I was at a sleep over yesterday XC

[2nd Lt. John P. McCreary]

( OOC: No problem ^^. Sorry this is a bit late, the Olympics have been distracting XD )

“Wirklich?“ John asked, another rare smile forming on his face. She had promised to write him back, but he had never really thought about her letters, as he hadn’t expected to meet her again. Instead he had focused on writing to her. But the fact that she had written him back was almost enough to make him forget that the world around them was falling apart. At her protests when he gave her his coat, he shook his head. “Unsinn, Liesl, es geht mir gut ... und Sie vergessen, ich bin ein Offizier, der ich ein Gentleman zu sein.“ he replied, a smile tugging at his lips. “It’s alright, really...“ he assured her. “I still have one cigarette left...it’s not much but it keeps you warm—would you like to split it?“

“Ich bin hier, Liesl, keine Sorge.“ he stated softly. It was almost ironic that here he was consoling her and reassuring her that he would be fine, when in fact only moments ago he had wondered if he would survive the night. When she asked him if he was alright, he nodded. “Just fine.“ he stated. That wasn’t necessarily true. Had he been afraid? It wasn’t so much that...maybe concerned that he wouldn’t find his unit, and that he would die defending a barn by himself. He was—had been—concerned that he wouldn’t live to see the end of the battle, let alone the end of the war. He was concerned that he wouldn’t see her again.

If in the case he had been found by a German patrol, he would have refused to give himself up. He would have fired off the last of his ammunition, lobbed grenades, fought with his knife, thrown stones—he would have fought to the death. That was how he had been trained—to hold the position at all costs, even if it was just a barn, even if he was just one man. He pushed his thoughts from his head and chuckled at her comment about the climate.

“Wahre.“ he admitted with a grin. He really shouldn’t have been complaining. The cold wasn’t even the worst part of it. It was more of a discomfort. It was the onslot of Panzers, the artillery shelling, the MG42s, the endless waves infantry that assaulted American lines that were the worst part. It was holding a fatally wounded private in your arms and trying to assure him that he’d be fine, even though he was dying, and he would not be fine,, while he screamed for his mother. That was the worst part.

He glanced at her in surprise when he heard how worried she was. She then apologized, and he shook his head. “Don’t apologize.“ he said in English. He then shrugged at her question. “Es wäre nur einfacher in der Früh. Ich kann nicht wirklich sehen, wohin ich gehe, und ich habe nicht eine Karte ... Ich habe eine Idee davon, wo Sitz der Gesellschaft ist, aber ich würde besser zu fühlen versucht, es bei Tageslicht zu finden. Auf diese Weise hätte ich eine bessere Chance zu sehen, die Patrouillen in der Gegend, bevor sie mich sehen.“ he explained. It wasn’t necessarily safer. Either way he was alone behind enemy lines. He was surrounded. “It’s alright, Liesl, really—I’ve been in this sort of situation before. I jumped into Normandy, it took me God knows how long to find a friendly.“ He did fine then. But he had also been lucky.

He stepped closer when she took out her journal and smiled broadly. “Vielen Dank ... Ich weiß, ich werde sie gerne, weil du sie geschrieben hat.“ he responded honestly, gazing into her eyes for a moment. He then reached into his jumpsuit pocket and withdrew the folded up letter he had been working on before he had been shelled. “This is the latest one—I didn’t get a chance to finish because that’s when they bombarded us…” He paused to take off his musette bag and took out five envelopes. “I have more, of course, but they’re in my footlocker…these are the ones I’ve written since being sent to the front lines. I’m sorry they’re a bit short, I haven’t had nearly as much time to write as I would have liked.”

Translation

Wirklich? – You did?

Unsinn, Liesl, es geht mir gut ... und Sie vergessen, ich bin ein Offizier, der ich ein Gentleman zu sein. – Nonsense, Liesl, I'm fine...and you forget, I am an officer which means I have to be a gentleman.

Ich bin hier, Liesl, keine Sorge.— I'm here, Liesl, don't worry.

Wahre. -- True.

Es wäre nur einfacher in der Früh. Ich kann nicht wirklich sehen, wohin ich gehe, und ich habe nicht eine Karte ... Ich habe eine Idee davon, wo Sitz der Gesellschaft ist, aber ich würde besser zu fühlen versucht, es bei Tageslicht zu finden. Auf diese Weise hätte ich eine bessere Chance zu sehen, die Patrouillen in der Gegend, bevor sie mich sehen. – It'd just be easier in the morning. I can't really see where I'm going, and I don't have a map...I have an idea of where Company HQ is, but I'd feel better trying to find it in daylight. That way I'd have a better chance of seeing the patrols in the area before they see me.

Vielen Dank ... Ich weiß, ich werde sie gerne, weil du sie geschrieben hat. – Thank you...I know I'll like them because you wrote them.

[Liesl Von Stauffenberg]

“O-of course I did….I promised…didn’t I?” she asked staring up at John innocently. She laughed slightly at John’s comment before speaking,“ Gentleman und ein Offizier ja ... aber du bist auch ein Idiot ... du wirst krank werden …Ich will dich nicht um ...” her voice trailed off at the end, feeling a her cheeks heat up into a blush, “Die….” She mumbled. Her eyes shifted away from him, staring off to the side. She turned her attention back to John after he asked if she would like to split a cigarette with him. She shook her head lightly with an amused smile on her face, “No…I don’t smoke.” She said with a light smile on her lips.

It didn’t quite matter that she was still in a war and that any moment a German officer could find them and shoot them on the spot, she was just happy to be with John...even if it was just for a few moments. Her eyebrows furrowed slightly as he explained that it would be easier for him to leave in the morning. Liesl still had uneasy feelings about him leaving in the morning…frankly she would have preferred him leaving during the evening, “I…just…” she stammered, “ Ist es egoistisch von mir zu sagen, ich will dich nicht zu sterben?” she said in a more rhetorical question.

It was a selfish thing to say…but, she knew that he was there to serve his country, she felt like she was holding him back somehow. She bit her lower lip lightly, dreading his answer to her question. She didn’t really want him to answer it…she already knew the answer. But, it was the very question that has been eating at her since she last saw him. She looked down at her faded brown boots before meeting his gaze.

She watched him step closer as she pulled out her journal. She smiled back shyly as he said he’d like whatever she had written to him. She looked at the letters he held, she couldn’t help but smile, “So…you did write to me after all…” she teased lightly, “I umm….” She paused opening the journal to the last thing she wrote. She flipped to the middle of the journal, making sure the edelweiss doesn’t fall out, “I think you’ll find the last thing I wrote….how do you say…inspiring.” She said with a slight teasing twang to her voice.

“Well, as you said….w-whatever you’ve written I’d like it.” She said with a smile, “Weather it’s a short letter or not…I’ll still like it.” She said nervously. She looked at the envelopes John held curiously, wondering what he had written to her. She couldn’t really believe that he would write back to her…she thought he was just saying that because it was the heat of the moment. She fidgeted slightly before holding out the journal towards John.

“Well,…I’m gad to see that you’re alright…” she said wearily. The whole ordeal seemed to make her exhausted. Honestly…Liesl couldn’t wait for the war to end…she didn’t want to see anymore death happen around her, nor did she want to loose John. The fact that she thought the corpse outside was him, put her on edge…though at this moment it didn’t quite matter…she was with him…and he was alive. She smiled at him, “Nizza Bart ...” she teased, taking some hay out of his beard. She giggled slightly, flicking the piece of hay out of her hand.

Translations:

“ Gentleman und ein Offizier ja ... aber du bist auch ein Idiot ... du wirst krank werden .. Ich will dich nicht um ...” - Gentleman and an officer yes...but you're also an idiot...you're going to get sick..I don't want you to...

“ Ist es egoistisch von mir zu sagen, ich will dich nicht zu sterben?” - Is it selfish of me to say I don't want you to die?

“Nizza Bart ...” – nice beard

OOC: It’s ok the Olympics was distracting me too xD

[2nd Lt. John P. McCreary]

He chuckled a bit at her comment and then shook his head. “I eat all my vegetables like a good boy—I think I’ll be fine.” he teased. “It’s not really bothering me too much.” He stopped grinning when she finished her sentence, and his face grew grim. “Liesl, I’m right here…nothing’s going to happen.” He reached for her hand and joined it with his own, raising their hands up to her eye level. “We’re together—it’s alright. I’m not leaving you…” At least not until the shelling stops, not until morning… he thought as he let go of her hand. But he figured that saying that would do little to make her feel better.

“Oh—oh, of course. You’re a lady I should have known…” he replied embarrassedly as he tucked away the cigarette. Not that American women didn’t smoke, but his mother had never been keen on her boys seeing any girls that did. For that reason alone he thought that his mother would like Liesl. He stepped closer at her next words and raised his hand to her cheek again. “No it’s not.” he answered softly in his own language. He wasn’t afraid. He didn’t think that he’d ever been afraid—at least not until today. Why had that been? Had it been because up until today, he had never been under heavy fire and wondered if he’d ever be able to come back? Up until today he hadn’t really had anything—anyone—to come back to. He had his family of course—he was the youngest—but he had no obligations, he didn’t have a family like George. He didn’t...have much of a future. This war seemed like all he had ever known, as well as all he would ever know.

Until now. He grinned and offered her the letter he had last wrote. “The last one I wrote in my foxhole—it isn’t completed yet but it’s the most recent one, and the longest. Longer than the other ones from the front at least.” It had been quieter than usual today, at least up until the bombardment. The constant shellings were enough to drive a man crazy…but he wasn’t going to grant himself the luxury of losing his mind. He had men counting on him to have a sound mind, to lead them out of this hellhole and back to their homes, their families. An entire platoon’s fate—or what was left of it—rested on him having a sound mind. He wasn’t about to lose it.

That was granted his platoon was even alive. He hadn’t let the thought slip into his head until now. Bombardments usually preceded frontal assaults, and even though they had been in the process of retreating and regrouping to set up a better defense, that didn’t mean his men hadn’t been cut down on the way. They had been exposed—running up a hill…easy targets…

It took him a few moments to realize that Liesl was offering him her journal, and he quickly exchanged his letters for the book, smiling. “Thank you. I’m glad to see you again…if you knew…if you knew how much it means…” he started, shaking his head. “I’m happy we’re together again.” he finished with a quick grin. He laughed a bit when she took some hay out of his beard. “You think so? Maybe I’ll keep it until the end of the war…” he joked.

[Liesl Von Stauffenberg]

Liesl stared up at John with an unwavering expression on her face, “You think…” she repeated, “John…Normalerweise würde ich einen Mann finden, der ein Mädchen gibt seine Jacke, weil es kalt ist, sondern süß. Aber, ich bin ernsthaft krank zu werden und Sie in der Front, die, wenn Sie zu einem Arzt bekommen, wenn Sie Lungenentzündung holen weiß” she insisted not at all hiding her worry at this point. She stopped mid sentence when John took her hand in his, she looked at their joined hands then back at John as he told her that he wasn’t going to leave her. She knew this one moment of peace will have to come to an end…well until morning that is. She let out a sigh, “Alright.” She replied quietly as he let go of her hand.

She couldn’t help but smile amusingly as John spoke in a rather embarrassed tone, “I-it’s alright…” she assured him, “ Ich weiß nur nicht wie das Rauchen ... und wenn du in einem Krankenhaus von Rauchern umgeben ständig sind, die Sie nicht wirklich gern davon bekommen.” she said with a smile. Her smile slowly diminished as she thought about her question, “Y-you don’t need to answer that…” she said quickly before John spoke. She didn’t realize he stepped closer to her until she felt his hand against her cheek. Her gaze slowly met John’s for a moment feeling rather foolish for saying that out loud rather than keeping it to herself, “Are...you scared?” she could help but ask, “Not seeing your family…dying on foreign soil…?” she could guess his answer, but she wanted to hear it from him…probably seeking to gain some closure to put her thoughts at ease.

A slight smile crossed her lips as John handed her his letter he wrote in his foxhole, not too long ago, “It’s alright…most of the entries I’ve written are pretty short.” She replied softly, “Though, the last entry is rather…how do you say…errmm…a bit cliché.” She said in an embarrassed tone. She fidgeted a little with the envelopes, wondering what John had written, “Isn’t it close to Christmas?” she asked looking at John, “Tell me…what would you be doing now if you were home?” she asked curiously. She wanted to take her mind off the distant explosions outside…at least for now…she thought that if she learned a little more about John she could see him after the war.

“Around this time…my family…m-my father, mother and I…would go to church this whole week until Christmas Eve…”she said with a breathy laugh, “ Zu Hause würde Mutter kocht ein warmes Abendessen, während ich mit meinem Vater gesessen, als er eindringlichen Märchen erzählt. Wir würden uns manchmal um Radio zu hören ... Beethoven, Mozart ... einige deutsche Volkslieder, Big Band-Musik .. etwas zu tanzen, nur um die Kälte fernzuhalten.” she said as she reminisced in the memory of her parents. She looked over at John turning slightly red in the cheeks, “S-sorry…I-I don’t mean to talk too much.” She said quietly.

“I can guess…” she replied with yet another smile gracing her light pink lips. She held the letters lightly in her hands as John spoke that he was happy that they were together again, “For now at least…” she said looking at John. She laughed slightly when he mused back about his beard, “Maybe you should…would make it easier to find…” she paused for a moment flushing a shade of red, “…find you…again.” She said looking up at him with a clearly embarrassed expression on her face.



Translation:

Normalerweise würde ich einen Mann finden, der ein Mädchen gibt seine Jacke, weil es kalt ist, sondern süß. Aber, ich bin ernsthaft krank zu werden und Sie in der Front, die, wenn Sie zu einem Arzt bekommen, wenn Sie Lungenentzündung holen weiß - Normally I'd find a man who gives a girl his jacket because it's cold; rather cute. But, I'm serious about you getting sick and in the front who knows when you'll get to a doctor if you catch pneumonia???

“ Ich weiß nur nicht wie das Rauchen ... und wenn du in einem Krankenhaus von Rauchern umgeben ständig sind, die Sie nicht wirklich gern davon bekommen.” - I just don't like smoking...and when you're in a hospital surrounded by smokers constantly, you don't really get fond of it.

“ Zu Hause würde Mutter kocht ein warmes Abendessen, während ich mit meinem Vater gesessen, als er eindringlichen Märchen erzählt. Wir würden uns manchmal um Radio zu hören ... Beethoven, Mozart ... einige deutsche Volkslieder, Big Band-Musik .. etwas zu tanzen, nur um die Kälte fernzuhalten.” - At home, mother would cook a warm dinner while I sat with my father as he told haunting fairy tales. We'd sometimes listen to the radio...beethoven, Mozart...some German folk songs, big band music..something to dance to just to keep the cold away.

[2nd Lt. John P. McCreary]

John hesitated at the look on Liesl’s face. He knew that she had a point. “Ich werde es wieder anziehen, sobald ich zu verlassen. Aber zumindest ... lass mich tun dies für Sie. Bitte.“ he begged her softly. As much as it pained him to think about it, he honestly didn’t know when, if ever, he would see her again. They had been lucky to have met a second time, but he doubted that fate would be kind enough to grant them a third chance. He smiled down at her faintly, taking her hand. “We shouldn’t worry about that now…I promise I’ll take care of myself—but I don’t want you to spend this whole time worrying about me. We’re alright—the two of us are alright, and we’re together. We should be happy. I’m happy.” he stated with a grin.

He nodded in understanding. “I honestly didn’t really smoke all that much until…” he faltered and then finished, “Until I got into combat. It soothes my nerves…I’d like to stop, though. All that smoke can’t be good for you.” he answered her comment about smoking. He really should stop…maybe after the war—maybe then he would feel comfortable with stopping. He and other soldiers used it both to manage stress and to keep warm, the latter all the more important in this environment. Her question threw him off guard, and it took him a while to answer. He looked away for a few moments, deep in thought before finally responding. “No. I suppose…I’ve just sort of accepted it. I haven’t really…been afraid—of death, at least. I’m afraid of letting my men down…if I should fall, would the man who would take my place be able to lead them as effectively as possible without any unnecessary casualties?” He didn’t mention his fear of their never meeting again. That would do little to console her. “No, Liesl, I’m not afraid to die. I happen to have a guardian angel.” he added pointedly with a grin. “And because of her I have no reason to fear.”

“Cliché?” He looked down at the journal and started to open it. His eyes moved across the page, his face solemn as he read through the first few paragraphs. He froze when he got to the passage about her not wanting to allow herself to die in order to keep her promise. That was how she saw it as well? He wanted so desperately to survive so that he would see her again after the war. She was his reason for making it out of this thing alive. A smile started to form on his face when he saw the edelweiss, and gingerly he picked it up. “This is for me? Thank you…it’s beautiful….”

“Yes…it’ll be Christmas in two days…” John replied, his eyes growing a bit distant. He smiled as he recalled his memories of Christmas as a child. They seemed as if they were from a completely different world instead of a different time. “We’re Catholic, so we would go to mass—and we sometimes went caroling when I was a child…we’d decorate the tree, and mother would make the most delicious ham…and for dessert she would bake apple pie…” He listened to her recount how her family celebrated Christmas and smiled. “Wir sind nicht so verschieden überhaupt.“ He shook his head. “No, not at all...I like talking with you.“ He paused a moment and then added, “Perhaps there will be a cease fire on Christmas...like during the Great War.” He chuckled heartily at her comment about his beard. “Perhaps I will. After the armistice I’ll shave it off.”

Translations
Ich werde es wieder anziehen, sobald ich zu verlassen. Aber zumindest ... lass mich tun dies für Sie. Bitte. – I'll put it on again as soon as I leave. But at least...let me do this for you. Please.

Wir sind nicht so verschieden überhaupt. – We're not so different at all.

[Liesl Von Stauffenberg]

“Alright…” said Liesl…though it sounded a little forced. She didn’t want to argue with him further, it seemed as though it was no useless to argue when he made his mind up. Liesl’s gaze shifted away from John’s in silent protest. She finally peeled her gaze off the wooden panes of the farmhouse and back to John as he took hold of her hand again. Liesl felt a familiar warmth as he held her hand gingerly. A small smiled wavered on her lips briefly as he told her he didn’t want her to worry…She looked at him; giving him a certain look as if to say, I’m still worried…she frowned, “John…it’s complicated…it would be a different story if we were on the same side of the war….”she paused for a moment letting him finish, “ I am happy…just…” her voice trailed off , “Nevermind…you’re right…” she said forcing a smile to hide her worry.

“It’s alright…no need to apologize if you smoke…” she mused lightly, trying to keep her mind off the cold. Her legs were starting to strain a bit…it didn’t bother her too much, but she would have liked it if they continued their conversation sitting. She had to admit…she was a tad tired. This was the first time in weeks that she didn’t need to tend to any injured soldier. Not that her efforts meant much. She looked at John waiting for him to reply to her question. She felt nervous asking something like that out of the blue. She fidgeted slightly as John spoke, not wanting to make eye contact with him just yet, “ Schutzengel?” she said with a hint of sarcasm in her voice, “You give me too much credit…” she said coyly.

Liesl laughed lightly as John picked up the edelweiss that was in her journal, “Yes…” she said as she peeled off the gloves from her hands. She tucked the gloves under her arm as she gently took the small flower, “ Du sollst es in Ihrer Uniform Kragen verstauen ...” she said softly. She smiled lightly as she tucked it in a notch in John’s M42 jump jacket, “Like this…” she said fixing it a little so it won’t get crushed too much. She looked up noticing how close she was to John, feeling her cheeks burn up recalling the time she was this close to him was-…she cleared her throat, “It’s rather cliché to me…”she mumbled as she backed up slightly.

“Funny I’m catholic as well…my how the world is small.” She mused softly, “Nein, we aren’t so different.” She replied softly. Her smile began to fade gradually when he said that the war might stop before Christmas; Liesl shook her head slowly, “Es könnte es passieren ... wer weiß, könnten Sie Recht haben. All dies könnte noch vor Weihnachten zu beenden ...” she said quietly. She stayed silent for a moment listening to the distant explosions and wind outside, before reaching into her medical bag. She shuffled around the bag a bit till she pulled out a bar of chocolate, “Would you…like some?” she asked as her cold fingers picked timidly at the paper wrappings of the chocolate bar.

Translations:

“ Schutzengel?” – Guardian Angel?

“ Du sollst es in Ihrer Uniform Kragen verstauen ...” - you're supposed to tuck it in your uniform collar...

“Es könnte es passieren ... wer weiß, könnten Sie Recht haben. All dies könnte noch vor Weihnachten zu beenden ...” - it could happen...who knows, you may be right. All this could end before christmas...

[2nd Lt. John P. McCreary]

John suspected that Liesl was more fearful than she was letting on. He saw a slight smile flicker across her face when he took her hand, and he smiled back encouragingly before she frowned again, silent for a few moments. When at last she spoke, he stayed quiet and listened intently. If we were on the same side… The words resounded through his head and he didn’t say a word for a while. “Even though we aren’t on the same side, we’ll be alright. I promise. I can’t say how but…we have to hope for the best—it’s no good thinking about what may happen…we should enjoy what time we do have.” he said lowly. He looked up for a second and then smiled faintly. “At least the shelling’s stopped.” Indeed it had been quiet for quite some time. Maybe they’ve run out of ammunition, he thought dryly. Of course that wasn’t what happened. As soon as he had spoken, the thunder of the artillery went off again. One could only hope.

“Danke.” John answered with a sheepish smile as he took another drag on his cigarette. He didn’t much like smoking, but he had taken to it once he had first arrived in France. However if he ever got out of this, he was going to stop. He vowed it. He finished smoking his cigarette and tossed the butt on the ground, snuffing it out with the toe of his boot. He looked over at Liesl and realized just how fatigued she looked. “You must be tired…would you like to sit down? There are some crates up in the loft—it’s not much but…” he trailed off apologetically. He smiled genuinely at her response to his calling her a guardian angel. “Of course it’s true—if it weren’t for you I wouldn’t even be standing here. I couldn’t possibly give you enough credit.” he replied emphatically.

He smiled a little as she tucked the edelweiss into his collar. He watched her silently, also very much aware of how close they were standing to each other. He tried to meet her eyes, keeping his fixed directly on her. If he moved any closer…She had stepped back already and was looking away, and he diverted his eyes as well until she spoke again. “I think it’s very thoughtful of you. Thank you.” he answered honestly, taking her hand again.

“It is, isn’t it?” he agreed with a slight chuckle. In any other circumstances the Germans he killed could have been his friends. They had families, interests, careers, dreams, aspirations—just the same as he and his men. They just happened to be at war. It almost seemed senseless…but to think that it was senseless would be to deny that the sacrifices the men he had commanded had made were for a purpose, and that he could not do. This war, this hell—he believed firmly was for a better world. If they won, if they succeeded, it would be a better world. But what would happen to the German people? Or even the Austrian people, like Liesl? What if it was like what had happened after the last war?

He didn’t want to think about that right now. “Ich hoffe, es ist bald vorbei. Ich möchte meine Mutter und mein Vater wieder zu sehen.“ he added quietly. He allowed a smile to form on his face when Liesl offered him the chocolate and took it gratefully. “Thank you.”

Translations:
Ich hoffe, es ist bald vorbei. Ich möchte meine Mutter und mein Vater wieder zu sehen. – I just hope it's over soon. I'd like to see my mother and father again.

[Liesl Von Stauffenberg]

Liesl refused to utter a word to him knowing she may say something she might regret. She slowly looked at John quizzically when he asked if she was tired, mentioning that there were some crates in the hay loft above, "Sure...why not?" she said as his voice trailed off apologetically. She felt her cheeks burn up; when he stated that if it wasn't for her, he wouldn't be standing here.

Her eyebrows furrowed forward a bit, "If I left you in the snow to die...I would have regretted it..." she began softly, " Ich könnte Sie nicht verlassen. ..or jemand anders eigentlich -- zu sterben..." she said cocking her head a bit so she was holding John's gaze. His eyes seemed to hold her's for a moment, feeling herself begin to lose herself in them, she blinked slightly when he mentioned the shelling had stopped.

She moved her lips slightly, but no words seemed to spill from it...But I want you to stay... she thought, feeling a heavy object being shoved into her chest. Stay...such a simple word yet difficult to say. It seemed as though her world was crashing before her eyes...what was it about him that made her want to be with him? Questions were flooding her head making her even more confused.

She swallowed dryly as John thanked her for the edelweiss. She began to form some words, stuttering at first," Ich. ..I nur Gedanke. ...you kennt. ..if es hat gebracht meinem Vaterglück während des Ersten Weltkriegs, dürfte es das gleiche für Sie machen." Her voice trailing off as John took her hand again.Why are you doing this to me? she wondered screwing her eyes shut for a moment.

Feathery blankets of snow began to fall outside, drawing her attention to the surreal quietness that was outside of the farmhouse...her gaze became distant, completely drowning out what John was saying to her. She didn't even notice him take the chocolate she had offered.

Utterly lost in thought, Liesl began to question herself if it was even right to be here...with him of all things! An Allied soldier! The enemy of her country! Her shoulders shook at the thought...if she wanted to...she could never...she couldn't...she couldn't bring herself to hate John.

Liesl bit her lower lip turning it a pasty white color. John was a soldier...the mentality of a soldier shouldn't have hope that he'd survive the war. Her giving him the hope to survive just doomed him. She felt herself grow cold again, even though she was wearing his jacket to prevent that...the thought of never seeing him again hurt...but why? A burning sensation began to sting her throat a bit as it constricted over a lump that seemed to grow in her throat. She quickly sucked in a deep breath--snapping out of her daze; catching John saying that he'd like to see his parents again.

A small smile crossed her lips lightly, " Ich glaube, dass Sie sie wieder werden sehen können. ..and vielleicht, wenn Sie nach New York zurückkehren, das Sie werden..." she paused for a moment," Finden Sie ein Mädchen, das Sie wirklich mögen. ..and vielleicht anfängt eine Familie." she said looking down a bit, "You'll be happy. No wars or gun fire to worry about....no Germans." she said the word Germans a bit forced.

Liesl felt the corner of her mouth twitch a bit, shocked at what she was saying to him.

Translation:

Ich könnte Sie nicht verlassen. ..or jemand anders eigentlich -- zu sterben... - I couldn't leave you...or anyone else for that matter--to die...

Ich. ..I nur Gedanke. ...you kennt. ..if es hat gebracht meinem Vaterglück während des Ersten Weltkriegs, dürfte es das gleiche für Sie machen. -- I...I just thought....you know...if it brought my father luck during the great war, it might do the same for you.

Ich glaube, dass Sie sie wieder werden sehen können. ..and vielleicht, wenn Sie nach New York zurückkehren, das Sie werden -- I believe you'll be able to see them again...and perhaps when you return to New York you will..-

Finden Sie ein Mädchen, das Sie wirklich mögen. ..and vielleicht anfängt eine Familie. -- Find a girl you really like...and perhaps start a family.

(Yeahhh...Liesl is gonna have some internal conflict now )

[2nd Lt. John P. McCreary]

( OOC: John is too XD )

“But still…you didn’t have to. I’m only an American. You were risking a lot by helping me…and I’m forever in your debt.” John answered, gazing over at her seriously. Their eyes locked again and yet again he couldn’t bring himself to look away. He was transfixed by her eyes—frankly he didn’t want to look away. He offered her a slight smile and opened his mouth as if to say something, but then closed it, becoming unsure of himself. She looked as if she were about to say something as well, but she didn’t. What would he say? How could this ever work? They were on two opposite sides of a global conflict that was much bigger than the both of them, and he didn’t even know if he’d survive. He had put his life on hold until the end of the war—as they all had been forced to—and had not allowed himself to get involved with anyone, yet here he was falling in love with a nurse—an Austrian nurse.

“Well, I’ll keep it with me always to remember you. And I’m sure it will bring me luck.” he replied optimistically, smiling again. His smile faded a little as he looked at his hands in thought. “My father fought in the Great War too.” On the other side… “He was part of the reason I joined the Army. I always admired him…he didn’t talk about the war, much though. And I can’t say I think that he was happy when I decided to become an officer. He knew what I was like…he was just trying to protect me. He stopped me from enlisting after Pearl Harbor—he wanted me to finish school and I did. I was so eager then, I thought it’d be over by the time I graduated…” he trailed off. “But I can’t say I’m sorry I went. War is hell but…if I hadn’t gone we never would have met.” he stated, bringing his eyes up to meet hers again. “And I could never regret that.”

Things were quiet between them for the longest time, and he stared out of the window of the farmhouse. The moon cast an eerie glow over the snow-capped landscape outside. It was late, and he suspected—or hoped—the fighting was winding down, at least until morning. But he wouldn’t chance trying to find his way back to friendly lines. His own men might shoot him by accident, or he might stumble into a German trench.

His thoughts momentarily departed from the subject of the war when Liesl expressed her belief that he would return home safely. He smiled at her as she spoke, wishing that he could know for sure that he would survive the war—wishing that he could be happy. “I’m not sure if I’ll be able to find her in New York.” he murmured softly when she said that he could settle down with a woman and raise a family. “It’ll be hard in any case…communicating with anyone on that level after what I’ve been through. I used to wish that things would go on like normal after the war ends, but I know that they’ll never be the same. I have changed, just as much as the world has.”

He glanced over at her again, seeing that she looked rather distraught. “It doesn’t have to be that way…not if I stayed. If you wanted me to stay—or if you went with me.” He knew very well what he was suggesting, and there was no use talking circles around it. “I…I think I’m in love with you. No.” He shook his head. “I know that I am. And I don’t want things to return to normal…”