Erinnern - OPEN

[Casper Heniz]

He walked along the snow covered street, keeping his balance as he held tightly to the wall and the railings. It was so cold in Berlin on 20th December. The snow had been covering the roads and houses for three nights now – it had fallen thick and fast and the city was almost at a standstill because of it. There had only ever been one winter this cold and that was in the ‘30s when Casper had been underground working in the pubs and clubs. Not tonight however. He was patrolling the streets, keeping an eye out for any strange and “banned” activity that may occur round any corner. He had a rifle slung over his shoulder which didn’t help his balance as it was heavy and got in the way as he slid along. A few cars had pasted him by, dangerously close to the pavement; they had gone at snail pace, creeping along, worried that they’d slide off. A few people pasted him, going right around him and not wanting to make eye contact – for some, the SS and “block wardens” were rather scary and dangerous but Casper didn’t see himself as that. Many of his friends in the SS were kind, decent folk who wanted the best for their country and wanted to help their country win this war.

For Casper, the war was just something that had gotten in the way. He had been happy. The jobs in the clubs and bars had been amazing, he had gotten to go everywhere and he hadn’t been looked at twice by any army or police officer who decided to say it was wrong with what he was doing. He had met so many people from different countries. One man, Christopher Isherwood, the English writer had been fascinating and very interesting to be with. Yes, looking back on it, Casper had treated him badly by not seeing him when he wanted, but all in all, he had been a decent man. Where was he now? Back in England, and Casper was here, a member of the SS and fighting against Isherwood’s potential friends and relatives. That was quite a thing to take in. He remembered the day he’d last seen Isherwood – that was in a street in the early 1930s just after the Nazis had taken power. He’d heard Isherwood had left quite soon after that and hadn’t come back. Yes, every foreigner had left soon after the Nazis had come. They had left, or had disappeared suddenly and mysteriously.

As he was thinking this, he hadn’t been aware as to where his feet were taking him and he suddenly felt his balance go and fell down onto the ice and snow at the side of the road. His rifle hit his shoulder hard and he swore loudly. ”Bumsen!” he muttered under his breath and got gingerly to his feet. He heard a laughter coming from somewhere and looked around, a young boy was laughing at him. How dare he laugh at him?! Especially as he was in the uniform of the SS! The 20 year-old’s face turned into a scowl and he made for the boy who was in the shadows. ” Wie kannst du bei einem Soldaten lachen!” he growled, grabbing the boy by the scruff of the neck and breathing down at him. The boy had stopped and started to cry, speaking in German, high pitched and frightened. Casper felt sorry for him, not realising how harsh he must have sounded. He sighed, pushed the boy away from him and ran a hand through his hair. ”Geh mir aus den Augen.” he muttered and watched as the boy hurried away into the shadows once again.

TRANSLATIONS:
Fuck
How dare you laugh at a soldier!
Get out of my sight

[Wilhelm Hasburg]

He stomped across the sidewalk. His grip tightly secured onto the the railing to keep his balance.He slowly rammed his feet into the ground. One by one slowly propeling himself foward.He wasnt very used to the cold at all really. Quite to the contrary actually.

In all the time he spent in the afrika korps, in the hellish landscape of North Africa, he had wished every moment of his being there for home, Berlin and snow..... snowy Berlin. He got his wish and he was freezing his ass off, he thought to himself regretfully.

Still, Wihelm prefered the eye-freezingly cold temptures of berlin then the hot, sand filled , moquisto ritten land of Africa. He tore himself from his thoughts, deciding to focus himself on stopping any "banned" activity that may occur anytime, or any use of contraband. His grip tighten on the railing, and trying to fall of course he thought. He watched as cars slowly crawled along the frozen plavement. He swore the cars went so slow the drivers might of aswell be walking. "I mean its not like we're in a huge war and we need to save as much fuel as possible" He mumured sarasticly to himself

Of course the extreme amount of snobbery of some of the richer people wouldnt allow them to walk. Oh heavens no, walking? Even though it could save gallons of precious oil for military use that protects us? I would but the sidewalks are just sooo dirty. Wihelm thought to himself, mimicking an higher class citizen.

As he turned the corner he came upon the scene of an SS trooper slipping on the sidewalk as an small boy, blond hair , emerald green eyes, no more then ten years old laughing at the clumsly Soldier. The Man yelled at the boy angrily, grabbing him by the neck roughly. Eventually he let go and told the boy to get out of his sight, the boy, no doubt scared out of thinking ran into a alley, comically and perharps ironcally, slipped much like the SS trooper, he soon scampered out of sight.

"SS man!" Wihelm called out. "Perharps you shouldnt be so rough with the young boys, let them have them their fun before the food shortages come like the first Great war" Wihelm leaned against the an rough stone wall, and crossed his legs. "Perharps that even could of been the son of your Hauptman" He said jokingly, grinning a bit.

[Casper Heniz]

Casper watched, slightly over come by his own anger at the boy. Hell, he had done exactly the same thing in times gone by – laughed at people’s misfortune like falling over. Probably because he had been on the other end, he had been the one laughed at that he had felt upset and angry at the boy and had taken out his frustration on him. At least he hadn’t hit the boy. He saw him slip over, but just as he was about to turn away and leave, he heard a shout from behind him.

He turned, curious as to who had shouted at him and saw a man standing a little further down, hanging on to the railing for support just like Casper had done. An Obergrenadier had told him to not be rough with the boys and that they should let them have their fun before the food shortages came like in the Great War, and had added jokingly that that boy could have been Casper’s Hauptman’s child. Now, that would have been embarrassing. The Obergrenadier was smiling slightly, leaning on the railing. Casper gave a small smirk, and came closer to the other man. He was cold and stuck his hands deep into the pockets of the warm coat he was wearing.

” Das wäre nicht gut.” he said in answer to the man’s comment on the Hauptman’s child. He rested a hand on the railing near the man’s and looked at him closely – he could see the man must have been joking and he, Casper, relaxed slightly. ” Ich weiß nicht, Ihren Namen, Herr. Ich bin Rottenführer Heniz.” he stuck out a hand, awaiting for the man to take it and if he did so, the pressure would ease.

Translations:

That would not be good

I don't know your name, sir. I am Rottenführer Heniz.

[Wilhelm Hasburg]

Wihelm noticed the SS man turn towards him, his hands tucked, warmly into his great coat. Noticed his equipment was nearly indentical to his own, Karbiner 98K, knife, standard issue shovel. Wihelm's eyes quickly darted to his uniform collar. Wihelm studied his collar insigina that he was a Rotterfuhrer, much higher rank that he was.

For a moment he was afraid he might outburst at him as he did with the small child, his fears were put to ease as he noticed his face was nervous, much like his.He mentioned how it would be quite bad if that really was his Hauptman's son. Wihelm knew that the Rotterfuhrer knew that had was joking. After all there was roughly a one of a millon chance of that really being the Hauptman's son, he thought to himself. The Rotterfuhrer took his hand out of his greatcoat as if he wanted to shake his hand.

The Man introducded himself as Heinz. A smirk suddenly filled Wihelm's face, seeing no good reason to refuse a handshake he made sure his grip was tight as steel on the railing as he shook Heinz's hand. "Wihelm Hasburg, and you dont have to call me sir, after all, we are all comrades here, ja?"

Wihelm being comfortable with the man, spoke again. " You know whats funny? I just came back from Africa, from sand to snow, no blond beauties feeding us grapes in france eh Rotterfuhrer, or blond men if you like that kind of thing" Wihelm said jokely leaning upon the stone wall once more.

[Casper Heniz]

The man smirked as Casper offered him a hand to shake, and he thought he was not going to take it for after a few seconds he felt maybe he ought to not have done that. But no, the grip was like steel, hard and cold but with a slight friendly air and the man introduced himself as Wilhelm Hasburg also saying that Casper did not have to call him sir – “we are all comrades here, ja?”

Casper nodded, ”Ja.” Indeed, all soldiers were comrades in this war. Casper had not really come to know a few people because of the job he had been doing. There just had not been the time and it hadn’t really been the place. Oh yes, for appearances sake, Casper had been friendly to the clients – mainly men – but he never felt emotionally attached and he always felt like he was at a distance – not understanding their lives. Isherwood perhaps had been different...

" You know whats funny? I just came back from Africa, from sand to snow, no blond beauties feeding us grapes in france eh Rotterfuhrer, or blond men if you like that kind of thing"

Casper suddenly froze, sorry? Had this man just said “blonde men...?” Was this man....? Maybe not, maybe it had just been a slip of the tongue but if Casper had been someone else – someone against that sort of thing then this man would be in trouble for mentioning that. Casper knew it was illegal the things he had done, but he did not feel bad for it – he knew the Nazis would hurt anyone for it and throw them into the camps but Casper had been luckily – he had got out in time.

” Sie sollten vorsichtig sein was du sagst.” he lent forwards and looked at the man in the eye, not telling him off just reassuring him. He lent away and coughed away, covering his face with a gloved hand. ” Diese schreckliches Wetter!” Why, when one was stuck for conversation did it turn to the weather? But it was true, it was awful and cold and....just....it didn’t help that people normally hated Casper because of his SS status. He saw the looks on their faces and he felt bad – like that boy just then – he didn’t mean to scare him. ” Manchmal frage ich mich .... warum ich in diese gezogen” his dark eyes went down, shuffling his feet on the snow.


Translations:

You should be careful what you say

This awful weather!

I sometimes wonder....why I got dragged into this