Scum (Merhoff)

[Nathan Whyte]

”Corporal, stand down!”
“But Flight Serg-“
“Ah!”
“But,”
“Ah!”
“You-”
“Ah!”

Flight Sergeant Nathan Whyte was a lot taller than the small Corporal posted as guard to the small prison block. The American soldier defiantly holding his M1, but from the way the barrel wavered, you could tell he was afraid. And this was with somebody on his own side. Imagine what he would be like against the Krauts? Nathan must have been quite an image, still dressed in the dark overalls he had been flying in, hair slick from where the leather head-harness had been resting, and a rosy complexion from screaming at the young soldier. Spit hung from his chin after the outburst, and the pilot’s brilliant blue eyes sparkled with danger.

”I think I should probably…” The soldier trailed off, indicating behind his desk, at the rather comfortable looking chair.
”Yes, I think you probably should. Keys?” Replied the angry Kiwi, holding out an expectant hand towards the Corporal. He wasn’t disappointed when the small metal objects were pressed in to it. He gave a small, appreciative smile before turning around, and quickly marching the few steps to the wrought iron bars. He slipped the keys in to the lock, and jiggled them about. An old police station was being used for some prisoners, notably the Officers, and it did have excellent security. He walked through it, slamming the metal behind him, and locking it to release the key.

He carried on, boots clinking on concrete as he passed a few cells. The occupants were mainly sleeping, and he wasn’t bothered. A new arrival had just come from Belgium, and for some, unexplainable reason, Nathan felt compelled to this one soldier. It was odd, but he had a lot of anger to these Nazi’s, and this one seemed a good target for it.

He stopped by the cell, and sourly threw the key in to the small slot, and yanked the bars open. Jonas Merhoff was laying on a bed, half-asleep by the looks of things, and Nathan ensured he would have a hell of a wake up. He stood above the head of the soldier, before spitting in the German’s hair. He began screaming again, feeling his face redden instantly. “You Nazi, fucking, scum!”

[Jonas Merhoff]

OOC: Sorry it took so long, vanished for a while and didn't know you had posted this up .

Hauptmann Jonas Merhoff was rather comfortable in his small cot, twiddling his thumbs together and looking at the ceiling. He was prisoner. Big deal. It bothered him little, he had been a prisoner before. He had experience from previous times and these Allies didn't have the gut to do what his own people would do to him. He was a rather respected officer or at least he hoped so. He had some sick and twisted times, but he knew soldiers. He respected his foes, but rarely feared them.

There was an outburst at the entrance to the brig, from what he could overhear it was some rude Flight Sergeant verbally abusing a cowardly Corporal to gain entrance. It was the strangest thing to listen to the Flight Sergeant wildly scream at his ally and then hear the Corporal give in and allow him passage. What in the world had gotten into the bewildered Flight Sergeant? And why did Jonas feel like he was somehow going to find himself involved? Shrugging off both, he closed his eyes to wander off into sleep.

"You Nazi, fucking, scum!" Jonas felt the sick presence of this crazed man's spit in his hair and his eyes shot open. He studied this man and judged what he should say to him. He felt like no matter what, this man was going to abuse his rank to beat him or abuse him. Jonas was not in need of a lesson, this man was. English was an easy language to pick up on and very valuable to learn once you fought in two wars when they were you're number one enemy.

"I'm not a Nazi, Flight Sergeant, I'm a soldier. There's a difference. The line is blurred, I'll give you that, but there's a difference." His words didn't show much emotion, but he meant every one of them. Not many soldiers had this crazed loyalty to Hitler, they just did what was their duty. And fighting for their country was the top one. "Why are you here? I have not wronged you."

[Nathan Whyte]

Merhoff opened his eyes and stared and Nathan. For some reason, just the sight of the eyes of the man below him created a rumble in Nathan's stomach, a touch of doubt on whether he was doing the right thing in the room. Nathan closed his eyes, half considering an apology, but as his lids dropped down, images of his brother appeared on them, and he felt the fire inside him rekindle.

"Merhoff, Hauptmann," he began, pulling on a slight German accent, almost mocking of the man below before carrying on, "You're all Nazi, you're all fighting for that son-of-a-bitch Hitler," inside, he felt himself cringe - he'd been hanging around American's too much - he carried on, not breaking pace, "You all swore personal oaths of allegience to him, how can you say you're not Nazi?"

Merhoff spoke again, asking why Nathan was here. Without a word, he plunged his hand in to his pocket and threw a pair of black and white photograph's on to the chest of the German. "One of them is my brother," he indicated one, a pair of smiling young men in their respective uniforms with the New Zealand flag hanging above them, "The other is my best friend." He pointed the other, him and Rhys Bevan laughing with beers in hand. "At the hands of your army, they died. In this war that your country started, you and your comrades fought to destroy all that is good and pure in this world, my best friend and my brother died. You see why I am here? I want answers!"

He rested for a second, turning around and placing a hand on the cold wall, breathing deeply. He didn't even turn around for his first second, his voice a harsh and intense whisper. "Why? Why are you here, why are you fighting?" He turned, staring down at Merhoff. "Wouldn't you rather be at home, a farm in Germany, or a city apartment? You and your people have dragged thousands, millions of people away from the lives they loved, me included, and many of them have died! People that shouldn't be here, but are to protect the innocent. Why? Why are we here?" His last sentance trailed off, almost to himself. He grabbed a wooden chair and dragged it over, sitting on it. He felt tears prick at his eyes as the memories flooded over him of people he had known that were dead, the innocent life he had before.

[Jonas Merhoff]

Jonas maneuvered his way up off the bed in order to stand eye-to-eye with the enraged pilot who was screaming at him. A high ranking German comes in and immediately he is tied to Hitler and his right hand man slaughtering millions. He was brash, arrogant, and accusing but Jonas would hear him out. His people had put an immense strain on the world in the past few years, that he should be punished for. But, he'd fight anyway. It was the only thing he could do. It was the only thing he knew how to do.

"One of them is my brother.The other is my best friend. At the hands of your army, they died. In this war that your country started, you and your comrades fought to destroy all that is good and pure in this world, my best friend and my brother died. You see why I am here? I want answers!" Now Jonas understood it all as he stared down at the happy young men. It looked like the war had changed the Flight Sergeant for the worse. Before he could mutter out an apology he realized he had turned away.

"Why? Why are you here, why are you fighting? Wouldn't you rather be at home, a farm in Germany, or a city apartment? You and your people have dragged thousands, millions of people away from the lives they loved, me included, and many of them have died! People that shouldn't be here, but are to protect the innocent. Why? Why are we here?" He paused for a second and watched the man whose eyes had become misty as he stood before him.

"The same reason you fight. I'm a soldier. It's my orders. I won't deny I have....'moral failings', but then again how couldn't I? Any one who dedicates their life to violence does, not matter what army. I'm the same as you just on the other side. " Jonas paused and sighed and decided it would be hard of this accusing pilot to take that for an answer and comprehend, judging by the way his emotions were controlling his actions.

[Nathan Whyte]

As Merhoff spoke, Nathan just nodded, feeling his tears dry. He couldn't explain it, the man just had a calming effect, as if what he spoke was purely honest and true, nothing else. Without saying a word, he reached under his jacket, pulling his Colt 1911 out, and looking at the man in front of him, eyes saying "Trust me," pressed the magazine eject and let the small piece of metal fall from inside the weapon, before pulling on the slide to send the remaining bullet in the chamber flipping through the air. He reached out and caught the spinning piece of brass as he re-holstered the harmless weapon.

"The same as me...." He let his voice trail off, as if rolling the words around his motu taking the full meaning from them. He extended his right hand towards Merhoff, "The names Whyte. Flight Sergeant Nathan Whyte." He wouldn't be too annoyed if Jonas refused his hand, nor insulted, but if they were to talk, they may as well start afresh.

He twisted the brass cartridge in his left hand, looking at the way the bare light from the ceiling reflected on it. When he looked up again, his face was one of question. "What I don't understand, though, is why did you carry your orders so easily? Couldn't you see what you were doing was wrong? Couldn't you stand up? I have heard of the atrocities that your army, your people have committed. Why? Have you never questioned whether it was right, to pillage and rape all you pass? Stories have come from the East, harrowing stories, of what German soldiers do to the Soviets. Whole villages have been known to dissapear over night, and Hitler's Germany has such anti-semitic beliefs."

He let out a sigh, levelling his eyes with Merhoff's. "What I don't get, is why your Allies so easily do what is so obviously wrong to your fellow man. I can only console myself by knowing what I do helps stops these atrocities, but what you do help causes them."

[Jonas Merhoff]

The man nodded at him and began to resist the tears in his eye. He seemed more at ease and calm now and Jonas presumed it was because he expected a fight with a Nazi bastard. But he wound up with Jonas Merhoff. It was understandable, a little girl had had the same effect on him. And that was saying a lot. He seemed a lot calmer since those days and it made war a whole lot easier.

The flash of the Colt 1911 sent a warning to the Hauptmann's brain, thinking for a second that the man would just shoot him, but he shot a reassuring glance at him. "The same as me..." he muttered mainly to himself as he emptied the clip of ammo from his weapon. The echo of the clip clattering against the concrete felt like a sign of an unusual and forbidden friendship between two soldiers. It had an eerie feeling to it and then he extended his arm, which Jonas took without hesitation. "Hauptmann Jonas Merhoff. "

"What I don't understand, though, is why did you carry your orders so easily? Couldn't you see what you were doing was wrong? Couldn't you stand up? I have heard of the atrocities that your army, your people have committed. Why? Have you never questioned whether it was right, to pillage and rape all you pass? Stories have come from the East, harrowing stories, of what German soldiers do to the Soviets. Whole villages have been known to dissapear over night, and Hitler's Germany has such anti-semitic beliefs. What I don't get, is why your Allies so easily do what is so obviously wrong to your fellow man. I can only console myself by knowing what I do helps stops these atrocities, but what you do help causes them"

Jonas nodded, "I understand, but I've been a soldier my whole life. Ever since the outbreak of World War I it's all I've known to do. Yeah, I'm that old," he chuckled for a moment and then continued. "When you're a soldier, its almost like you brainwashed to do you duty. So it was easy for me to submit. We suffered through hell under the Weimar Republic. And this man comes preaching all of this bullshit and making us feel like we were superior and entitled to everything. Everyone took that with open arms and the propaganda got to us slowly." He remembered when he
had been influenced to do his Fuhrer's will. It wasn't the same anymore, but now he fought for Germany and it's people.

"We blamed the Jews for all that was happening. That was easy enough. And when we kicked them out, our economy boosted and we could actually feed our families. The war started off slow and we all backed him. But now, the soldiers are doubting him and even his generals are. That's why he created the SS. His own personal army. Him and his dogs are able to keep us down. That's why no one fights back. Don't blame the German people, they thought he had the right intentions. They were tricked and then their Fuhrer imposed his will on everything and everyone."

"These days, I do what my duty as a soldier was meant to be. I fight for my country and the people in it. I'd say 9 out of 10 men in the Wehrmacht would say the same. That's the sick thing about war..." Jonas paused and glanced away before looking at the Nathan, "You never now who you're really killing. For all you know, he could have been best friend. Your neighbor. Anyone."

[Nathan Whyte]

"I understand, but I've been a soldier my whole life. Ever since the outbreak of World War I it's all I've known to do. Yeah, I'm that old," It seemed to Nathan almost as if the words were coming through cotton wool. They were all coming through, but he realised there and then just how similar the Germans were to them. All it was that set them apart was where there parents had chosen to go.

Nathan just nodded in response, deep in though and chewing in the inside of his cheek as he did, and Merhoff carried on speaking. "When you're a soldier, its almost like you brainwashed to do you duty. So it was easy for me to submit. We suffered through hell under the Weimar Republic. And this man comes preaching all of this bullshit and making us feel like we were superior and entitled to everything. Everyone took that with open arms and the propaganda got to us slowly."

"Superiority." Nathan spoke the word then and nodded. All wanted to feel superior, apart from possibly the Reds back in Russia, and this extreme left-wing politics system was obviously very popular. Himself, Nathan was left-wing but nowhere near as drastic as Hitler was and his regime. He let Jonas carry on speaking and finish before he said anything else.

"That is completely true. I could quite easily have shot you when I came in, and yet here I am talking to you as the rational human being you are. But us humans are naturally agressive. Nature is. I remember just sitting on the farm when I was younger and animals would be utterly savage to get what they wanted. Food, fun and sex is all a male wants."

He stopped for a second, swallowing some saliva that had built up and carried on. "But it's so easy saying we were just following orders. I've met piltos that have dropped thousands of pounds of explosives on civilian cities, and they were just doing what they were ordered. At least in Fighter Command I don't have to drag civilians in to it. But then, in this war we just have to get on. If we dwell on what we do it will just tear us up, and I'm sure you've done some things you regret. I know I have..." He just let his voice trail of as he became consumed again by thoughts.