Rolling Home (McMillan)

[Stephen Colly]

OOC - I know JT isn't available at the moment but the thread is up so JT when you get round to role-playing then you can reply to this like we talked about!


The sun was dying down behind the skeleton trees; the countryside of France wasn’t really countryside any more. The beautiful trees that were once full of leaves and fruit and birds were now just branches with no leaves, no animals, no fruit…just bare and sticking out along the horizon…the war affected everything.
Fields were full of mud, those fields had once, years ago been full of crops and wheat, farmers had farmed the land with horses…now the fields were just flattened mud filled stretches of land, nothing seemed to be alive or growing, every thing…dead.

A figure in uniform, mud covered walked along the road which had had a lot of wear and tear during the day but now, nearing night time, it was empty and silent. Shell holes that had not been filled in from the pervious war almost a decade ago where here and there, just empty holes in the middle of the ground.
It was Stephen who was the figure, he had again gotten lost in the charge of fighting and had found himself running from the battle, away from the noise and now yet again he found himself in the middle of no where walking along a road that had been damaged by war.

A small light was up ahead and the silhouettes of a farm house and buildings was coming into view over the horizon. The light seemed to be coming from a lamp in a room, Stephen made his way towards the farm barns were suddenly a door opened and Stephen was lit up by the light from with in. He squinted and his hands went above his head quickly…think French he thought, panicking slightly.
"Monsieur… s’il vous plait, juste pour une nuit puis - je rester dans votre grange?"

The French man turned in surprise to another person just out of the circle of light, muttering something in French.
”Oui…err…yes you….c-can Brit.” he said in bad English and slammed the door suddenly.
Stephen blinked…that was sudden. He turned quickly, glancing up the road and then back towards the buildings, he could smell the sent of horses inside one of the barns so pushed the wooden door open near the big barn and stepped inside.

Stephen could hear the sound of horse munching hay, just one horse it seemed not a few like Stephen had suspected. It was dark inside the barn so Stephen made his way slowly along the wall until his hand found a lantern that hung on one side of the wall. He took out a box of matches that were inside his jacket pocket and struck a match, putting it into the lantern and the room was lit up suddenly.
There was one horse in a stall; it was a large Shire horse, black in colour with a long mane and tail. The boy’s eyes lit up and he stepped closer. ”Hello boy, hello.” he said, putting his rucksack down on the straw and stroked the horse’s noise. ”You’re a beauty hey boy?” Stephen’s Devonshire accent came more noticeable to the horse in the stall.
”I better get some sleep eh boy, now if anyone comes in, you tell me.” of course, the horse couldn’t understand but Stephen felt safer if he knew he wasn’t being listened to.
He took the lantern and made his way towards the straw that was lying on the floor, he set the lantern on an up turned bucket and lay down on the golden straw, as his head hit the ground, he realized that he was suddenly very tired and his limbs ached….he wanted home...he just wanted to go home...

Translations
"Monsieur… s’il vous plait, juste pour une nuit puis - je rester dans votre grange?" - ” Mister… please, just for a night then - I to remain in your barn? ”

[Edward"Butcher"McMillan]

McMillan had told the remnants of his men what the guard roster was, and they didn't argue too much when he didn't use his own name, he had pulled half of the night shifts in the Field for over a week so they could be well rested. This night was his to catch some well needed rest. A local farmer was either nice enough or scared enough to put them up in what used to be a chicken coupe, but McMillan wanted some quiet, the coupe echoed all too easily and the men would be up and about changing over the guard, so he slipped on down the road to a barn, it wasn't huge or anything, but it was quiet and the loft was small enough that McMillan felt he could hide away from view well enough if anything happened. He removed his gear, placing most of it under the straw in the rafters, keeping one of his pistols close and his knife remained on his person. He pulled his jacket over his body and passed out. The horse below woke him every so often, but it was nothing out of the ordinary, yet.

McMillan awoke when the door below was used, and shortly after the building filled with light from below. He was still in the darkness but all of a sudden he felt very trapped. He slowly rose to avoid any creaking and pulled his knife out. Before he could lean over the side for a look he heard a voice, a very...familiar voice. His suspicion perked and he took a quick peek. The top of the British soldier looked about the same as any other, but this one was of short build, almost boyish, and then it hit him, it had to be Colly. McMillan tucked back into the darkness and peered through the cracks in the wall, trying to see if the lad was alone. He never saw anyone, and there was no commotion from the direction his men were sleeping, then he realized that Colly must have been given permission to enter, he was a good boy, well mannered, that farmer set him up it seemed.

McMillan returned to the edge as he had heard the Brit stop talking, but McMillan never saw who he had been speaking with. Colly seemed to have the same idea about getting some sleep, but this would be a restless night for the both of them. With a slow and deliberate shift McMillan moved to where he was past the boy's head where he was laying, he slipped his feet over the side, keeping a close eye on him and then his legs followed suit. McMillan put his blade in between his teeth, and smiled as he thought himself a pirate for a moment, then lowered himself as far as he could with his arms, his feet dangled about three feet from the floor, but only about six inches from the bail of hay. With a slight tug he shifted his body to the left and let go, planting firmly into the hay, he pulled his knife and reached down to the boys head, grabbing his lower jaw and placing his knife under his chin. This took all of a half second from the time he had let go of the rafter. More than likely Colly didn't know it was him, but this was the perfect opportunity to help the boy, McMillan wanted him to make it through this whole mess, and he was in the best place to teach a lesson.

Pulling the boy up, remaining behind him, McMillan kept his grip firm and let out a slight groan as if to say "I hate you" anyone would have done so to instill fear, it was the way of war. He removed his hand from Colly's mouth and began to search him, keeping the blade of the knife close to his throat. Had he moved or sneezed, Colly's head would just about come clean off. He didn't seem to have much on him except a book, his rifle was at his feet and his gear was even further away.

[Stephen Colly]

Stephen had been about to drop off, he was tired so didn’t hear any movement from behind him until he felt a hand grip his shoulder and pull him up, Stephen was about to protest when a groan from behind him was sounded and he suddenly became very fearful. The man’s hand was now over his mouth, of course Stephen had thought at the back of his mind that yes, he would be found, he had thought he would get away with a nights sleep but obviously not, what with this man now searching him, the knife still at his throat, Stephen eyed it.

The man had found his journal…oh god, he had a lot of personal things in there, and his rifle but that was no use as that was on the floor and if he moved, the rifle would go into his neck and he would die of bleeding from the neck. That would not be pleasant at all. Why had he left his gear so far away? It was sitting on an upturned bucket along with the lantern that was near the horse’s stall that was far away…great…
Stephen didn’t turn round, he just stood there trying to make his limbs and body stop shaking so badly, he grasped his hands together to stop them moving about, what was up with him? He never shook like this, maybe it was because he was most likely about to die and go up to heaven like Edward McMillan. Little did he know however that the man behind him was Edward McMillan, but he didn’t know that just yet.

”I-I..” he trailed off, his mouth had become suddenly very dry, he needed water quickly, swallowing a number of times, he opened his mouth and began again this time in one of the only German words he knew – ”Bitte,” he said quickly. He knew this man wasn’t the French farmer, how could he be? When the farmer had allowed him to sleep in the barn, this had to be a German soldier, he could tell by the uniform. Stephen wanted to just be left alone, he wanted to do home…or die…dying sounded like the right idea, then he wouldn’t have to live in this world full of hatred and war…but then what would his mother think? And Joey...? He didn’t care for his father; his father was an ugly brute.

He stood completely still apart from trembling, he bit his lip and felt a little bit of blood flow into his mouth, making it less dry, but now he had a horrible taste and blood and that was degusting. The horse in the stable didn’t seem to take any notice to the scuffle which was happening feet away from him, how Stephen wished he was a horse, this horse didn’t understand what was happening, didn’t have to worry about death or Nazis, he just had to work and eat and sleep and drink, while Stephen had to fight, work, eat, sleep, drink, keep look out, not get killed…the list was endless…

Translations

"Bitte" - Please

[Edward"Butcher"McMillan]

McMillan flipped through the pages as he kept his other hand pressed against Colly's shoulder, keeping the knife near, but not close to the boy's throat, he wanted to scare him, not kill him. Edward looked about, it seemed they hadn't made too much of a fuss, but the lantern would soon have to go as their shadows would be casting through the cracks in the barn walls. McMillan perched his foot onto one of the stacks of hay to rest the journal on and with a few scribbled words from the only pencil he had, he slid it over the boy's shoulder, opened to the page he had written on and removed the knife from the threatening position.

Having sheathed the knife he waited only a few seconds so what he wrote could be read, then he stepped over and snatched the lantern, pulling it up to his face for Stephen to see for sure. Then with a quick spat of air, darkness crept over the area. "Stay calm, everything is going to be OK, I swear to you, but if you go screaming or something, I don't know if I can keep you alive from the rest of my men! So keep it down!" he said sternly through his teeth, trying to keep his voice low as well. He was ready to grab Colly up if need be to keep him quiet, he didn't figure this would be a simple event, and safety was a large concern for both of them.

He looked the boy over, it had been too long, war had a way of doing that, and Colly had a way of getting to Edward's feelings. He tried to calm his nerves, he was just glad that he was the one that had found him, the chances were one in...well a huge number, but he was glad none the less. He would kill the farmer in the morning for what he had done...

...and his family!

[Stephen Colly]

Stephen was scared out of his wits, the knife was kept at his shoulder and it was still there…the man was looking through the journal and the boy-soldier winced slightly, hoping that he wouldn’t actually read the words just flick through it, some of those words were really quiet personal and did not need other eyes looking and reading them.

The journal now came into view as the man handed it to him and Stephen quickly read what had been written…no….it couldn’t be…that was just…he stared at the words in that all too familiar handwriting, the writing couldn’t be true…so Edward was that sort of guy…Edward would go over to the Nazis if he had to…so many questions now raced through Stephen’s mind.

The knife had now gone from it’s position by his neck and Stephen was able to turn slightly, the lantern was now being held up to…Edward McMillan’s face. Stephen stared at the man…the man who he hadn’t seen in months, who everyone had presumed dead, been killed in action but no…the man who Stephen had feelings for and that everyone adored was standing right in front of him, looking quiet well as Stephen flicked his eyes over him before the lantern went out and they were both plunged into darkness.

Stephen panicked, but Edward now spoke sternly to the boy and the boy shivered at the words. ”What are you doing here?” Stephen said between his teeth, keeping his voice also very low…”You’re meant to be dead…” he trailed off, well that would go down well…”I mean…” he trailed off and knelt down trying to find his journal in the straw, finding it he picked it up and pocketed it, he looked over at the figure, still a bit wary of him and thinking that he could just be dreaming and he would wake up…but now…everything seemed too clear.

[Edward"Butcher"McMillan]

McMillan smirked a bit after the light went out having heard Colly's voice for the first time in...well for the first time since he had visited him in the hospital soon after the boy returned from France. "What do you mean 'What am I doing here?' do you not remember what I told you last we spoke...in the hospital, just after you had returned from France?" McMillan leaned over and placed a hand on the wooden rail to lower himself to the floor. With a small grunt he plopped down and leaned against the post. "I told you I would watch over you, and I told you we would grab some horses and hit the trails didn't I?" It was a rhetorical question as those were almost the exact words he had used. Now McMillan had never really been taken as the sentimental type by pretty much anyone but Colly, and Edward knew he had to hang onto that part of his life otherwise his own sanity would be at risk.

Now McMillan knew that the chances they could go horse back riding in the morning were pretty much impossible, but the shock of the moment should be enough to relish in the thought for a few seconds as they were in a stable of all places. "It was only meant it look as if I had died, I knew that if anyone had the option, that knew me, to identify the body, they would know that wasn't me at all. I was hoping someone would notice, did anyone?" McMillan pulled out a cigarette and lit it up, probably not the smartest thing to do in a big wooden structure full of hay, but he need one and really didn't care if it burned to the ground...so long as everyone made it out ok. After a long drag he looked over toward Colly's direction. "What the heck are you doing out here all by your lonesome?" and all of a sudden McMillan became extremely paranoid. This was the perfect set-up, Send the only person he was ever close to out by themselves and see just who would show up to say "hello". His eyes darted back and forth as he rose to his feet, taking a firm grip on his hand cannon, but not removing it as the sound would give it away, as far as he knew Colly could only see the burning end of the cigarette.

[Stephen Colly]

Stephen did remember, how could he have forgotten that last time he had seen McMillan? When McMillan had said that he might not be coming back. ”I do remember Ed.” he said quietly, the memories coming back clearer than ever. Stephen sensed that the man was now sitting down on the floor as he heard a small sound of straw rustling, Stephen also took hold of the rail and began to lower himself down to the floor as Edward spoke.
”I know you said that, it’s just I didn’t think you would come back…” Stephen remembered everything, it had been a couple of months since they had last spoke and it felt like it had only been minutes.

Stephen knew that that part, the horse riding part, would not come true, it was alright for Edward, but not for Stephen, an Allied soldier on the edge of the Axis border would not go down well…it then brought up the question of what Edward was doing in a barn, in Nazi uniform, where there other men up in the rafters or close by?
”There were over a thousand people at your funeral.” Stephen muttered, leaning against a stack of straw and began to pick at it with his fingers, ”Yeah, Brentwood went off his rocker, declaring that it wasn’t you in the coffin, but no one believed him, I mean…how could they? Everyone, including me, thought that Brentwood was mad with grief…” he glanced up as he saw a cigarette being lit.

Stephen smirked slightly, he began to take out his own packet and took a single cigarette out, lighting it and taking a drag. Edward asked another question and Stephen glanced around, ”Me? I should have asked you that...” he stopped, not really wanting to tell Edward that he was here because he had run away from battle. ”I’ve been getting Shell Shock Ed, that’s what the doctors have been saying anyway, loads of bombs going off in my head and it’s been getting worse…I-I came out for some air and kind of went off the beaten track…last time I was in this area, the Allies had it under their command so I just thought…yeah…I just thought that…” he took a drag and felt Edward move beside him, rising to his feet.
”Why have you stood up? Is there something outside?” Stephen asked suddenly, feeling pretty worried now that he would be caught. ”What am I going to do?” he suddenly sounded terrified, ”Shit.” he swore quietly under his breath, the shock of seeing McMillan alive had subsided, now it was all to do with him escaping, surely Edward wouldn’t have been on his own…

[Edward"Butcher"McMillan]

McMillan leaned against the wall of the barn and peered through a small gap in the wood as he looked around outside for any signs of an ambush. The night was as till as it could be but Edward was still uneasy about the scenario. He turned his head sharply to face the small burning end of the cigarette Colly had lit, the light from the exterior of the barn still shining a small beam across his eyes, narrow and stern. "You tell me who is outside...tell me Stephen, who is here with you?" he said in a soft voice not wanting to raise any alarm but wanting answers. His men were within shouting distance if need be, but they might not be able to handle what the Allies had pull together to haul him back in.

Colly had said that there around a thousand people that attended the funeral...his funeral. McMillan didn't think he was really known at all, much less that well, but it put a small smile in the back of his mind that he would enjoy another time when he had the luxury of free thought. "Stephen, don't get me wrong here, I love you like a little brother, maybe even a son of sorts, but if you are here to lure me out tell me now as a last favor and allow me to leave, you can even turn my men in if you wish, they are not far from here..." he stopped for a second as what he had said might spook the boy more knowing that other Nazis were in the area "...but if a bunch of Allied soldiers come creeping out of that wood-line, you WILL be dead and I will be gone before they know to enter this barn!"

McMillan wiped the spit from his lip as he turned his entire body to face Colly. He needed answers before this little reunion went any further. He took a slow step toward the lad, followed by another to place him right in front of him, towering above his seated stature. He knelt down slowly and pulled out his Zippo, holding it less than a foot from his own face and struck it ablaze, his nose was a mere three inches from Stephen's and with a raspy no nonsense whisper he muttered "Who...is...out...there?!"

[Stephen Colly]

Stephen just stood there, watching Edward, gripping his hands together behind his back. He didn’t understand why Edward suddenly thought that someone was outside. ”There isn’t anyone Edward.” he said, taking another drag of his cigarette, his voice shook a bit, he had never seen Edward stern like this before.

Edward told him that he loved him as a brother, or even a son of sorts…that made Stephen glow with slight pride and happiness but the next part of Ed’s speech made his heart suddenly heavy and slight panic…there were Nazis around? Stephen could have walked right past them without realizing! Through all this thinking of Stephen’s, Edward had come closer and Stephen started as he saw that the man was suddenly towering above him. A small glow, brighter than the cigarette butt now appeared and Stephen stared into Edward’s eyes, Edward muttered in a whisper to Stephen and fear hit him.

”N-No one…I promise...I swear on my l-life Ed.” he stuttered, feeling suddenly very afraid of the man who he loved…those lips were so close….no, he mustn’t…what was he thinking? Was he mad? Yes, people may think that he was mad because he was thinking of kissing a guy who was much older than him and a Nazi.

”There isn’t anyone out there Ed!” Stephen said again as he felt his legs tremble, ”If there were I’d tell you, I really would.” he nodded, staring at Edward, his eyes pleading in the half light that lit the barn. To stop the urge inside him, he looked away and leaned slightly away from Edward.

[Edward"Butcher"McMillan]

McMillan stared into Colly’s eyes, it was apparent that he had startled the lad. But McMillan could tell that he was being honest, it was true Stephen would have told him if there really had been someone out there. He closed his lighter, as Colly turned away, and shook his head in the darkness, war had a way of tearing people apart with ease. He put his hand on Colly’s shoulder ”I believe you Stepehen, I believe you.” he said almost in a regretful tone.

As usual he tried to lighten the mood that he had created. ”Liam lost it a bit huh? I’m gonna miss that guy.” it wasn’t much but at least it wasn’t threatening either. Almost a thousand people he remembered Stephen said attended the funeral, he still found it hard to believe, but there was no reason to lie about it really. McMillan found it odd that Tessa had not made a single noise when the Allied soldier approached, but with the way things had been going she probably wasn’t used to growling at those she had seen her master with on multiple occasions. The thought made him smirk a bit, all this garbage over Hitler’s ideals, funny how one man can persuade thousands to do as he wishes.

McMillan took a long drag from his cigarette, one of the last American ones he had. He had been trying to save them for times that he could enjoy them, this seemed as good a time to do so. It wasn’t often he could speak English and still hold a conversation. Even though he had come to the small barn to get some well needed rest, he had a feeling that he wouldn’t get a wink, but he would just tell the men that the horses were restless all night, keeping him awake. His spot up top was pretty cozy, once this meeting with Stephen drew to a close he would probably tell the boy to sleep up there, after all, he did have people to attend to before the sun rose in the morning.

[Stephen Colly]

Stephen felt himself stiffen slightly as the hand went to his shoulder but relaxed as the soothing and kinder, familiar tones of normal Edward McMillan came back in the man’s voice. His voice held some regret it seemed in it, McMillan obviously regretted turning to the Nazis…”I’m glad.” he muttered slightly, his eyes still staring at the straw that littered the floor, the horse moved in it’s stable and Stephen’s eyes drew to it.

He watched it, it chucked it’s head up and down as if it wanted to say something and Stephen gave a soft smile in the darkness. Edward spoke again and Stephen looked over, ”Yes he did, went crazy.” Stephen muttered, remembering what Brentwood had done. ”He misses you everyday Ed…” he shrugged his shoulders and dropped the almost burnt out cigarette onto the ground and stamped on it to make sure it went out, a fire in the barn wouldn’t be too great right now…

Stephen moved away from Edward, feeling slightly uncomfortable and made his way as best he could towards the horse, finding it’s nose and giving it a stroke, looking into the black eyes, or rather where he believed the eyes would be if he could seem them well enough.

He turned back to Edward, leaning on the door and looking at the figure. ”Why did you do that Ed?” he asked, his voice suddenly became cold. ”What happened with that Wolf guy? Why did you change sides?” he had wanted to ask this question since he had seen Edward just minutes earlier, why had the man who everyone had loved gone over to the Nazis? What had made him.

[Edward"Butcher"McMillan]

McMillan smiled a bit as he listened to Colly speak of Liam, but he missed the guy too, missed the heck out of him, but the time for that had passed. Edward was now a Nazi. It had been a rather easy transition, and Edward was still a bit proud of the fact that he had moved forward in his life, but that wasn't an easy thing to express to someone that cared for you and you betrayed their trust. "Why...?" he hesitated and swallowed hard before he continued.

"Well Colly, the thing is...I...just...I had to come over in a sense. Combat seems to be what I was bred for almost, like it's in my blood, and 'that Wolf guy' you mentioned is one of the best commanders I have ever had the pleasure to see first hand his ability. He is a mastermind tactician, and I knew that there were things I could learn from him, and if I can be taught something about the art of war then I'm on that wagon. I has nothing to do with beliefs or morals, and the Nazis seem to have none and think they are some superior beings. I've seen them cower in a foxhole just as much as I've seen American and British boys do. There is no difference. But Wolfram, he is something special, he is someone to be respected..." McMillan got a sinking feeling in his gut all of a sudden and continued. "Stephen, you listen to me and you listen good! No matter what is going on, no matter who else is around, if you see him, you run, run your fucking ass off and don't look back, not once, even if you see me or Liam or Rhys or Daniel or anyone. You get the hell out of wherever you are as quick as you can, you understand me!" McMillan couldn't handle the thought of Stephen being hurt, or worse killed, and by Wolfram, the man he has looked up to for so long, the terror that would swim in Edward's head would be unbearable.

He could feel the back of his eyes start to sting a bit from the images that bounced around in his skull, but he wouldn't let the tears come, he couldn't. He made himself think of the rat of a farmer that owned the barn, and the land. He tried to set someone up and that infuriated McMillan, those were the thoughts he tried to hold on too, the emotions were just too much for him to handle at the moment. McMillan hoped that Joey would be found soon, he hoped that Stephen could get himself out of this war before it did any permanent damage to his mind. He was glad he knew the boy but he knew if he never saw him again it would be in the best interest of Stephen.

[Stephen Colly]

”You didn’t have to go, you choose to go.” Stephen cut across, feeling rather sulky; more betrayed then anything to be quiet honest. He listened on to what Edward said, saying that Wolfram was to be looked up to, to respect even…it didn’t sound like Ed talking here, it sounded like something inside him talking…”Respected?” Stephen spat the word, ”A Nazi? Respect a Nazi? How about we just don’t have war Ed? Then you don’t need to have combat in your blood, you only got that combat because you were taught to get it, no one can be bred to kill other people.” he lent against the wall of the stall, watching the outline of McMillan.

Ed had paused, and then went on, his voice shook all of a sudden and he stopped. ”Ed? You alright?” Stephen said after a few seconds of silence between the two, his voice also was shaky with emotion, ”Look, I…” he paused, taking out another cigarette and lighting it, the lighter lighting up a part of his face, a few tears had rolled down it. ”Didn’t you realize what your actions would do…would do to people? Like me, Nathan, Daniel…Brentwood?” he wanted the truth from his friend and he wanted it now, ”Rhys Bevan is dead, he died a few months ago, got killed by some Nazi named Luther.” Stephen added, his voice cracked again and he stopped.

”Didn’t you think about your actions? And anyway, why are you telling me to run away from Wolfram when you didn’t? Tell me the truth Ed, the honest truth.” he stepped forward, ”There must have been something going on in your head…it mustn’t have been just having to come over…there must have been a reason…everything has a reason.” he stopped, and then started again, ”Did you hate the Allies? Please tell me Ed…I want to know, I won’t tell anyone about this meeting, no one if that is what you want but…did Wolfram force you to come…” his voice had become quieter and quieter during this speech, he got a drag from his cigarette and slid down the wall on to the straw. An owl hooted outside and it made him jump slightly, pulling his knees up towards his chest.

[Edward"Butcher"McMillan]

McMillan couldn't do a thing as Stephen started to hammer him with questions, if anyone deserved answers it was Colly, and Edward didn't blame him one bit for the rant. He almost felt as if no amount of explaining could get his point across, that indeed some people just have better genes to do certain things, are raised to be a certain way, have experiences that teach you more about some aspects of life than others. McMillan was born to be a warrior, was born to instill fear in his enemies shortly before stealing the life from them. This was all he pretty much knew how to do anymore, and the horribly sad thing about it was...he liked it, every terrifying moment of it, he felt alive, he felt powerful, and he damn well felt like becoming better then he ever could. "I didn't have to per say Stephen, but I enjoy the thrill of the fight, There was nothing else I could learn from the Allies when it comes to that. Rafael knew things, the man is brilliant, I came over hoping he would take me under his wing, teach me how to become better at the art of war than I already am. Can you understand that?" he paused as he tried to think of a better way to relate it.

"Joey! You came all the way out here, to fight and possibly die for your precious horse, just to get him home. I became a Nazi to fight and possibly die for the pursuit of knowledge, it's only to better myself at this ugly thing called war. I don't like it anymore than the next guy, honest, but the quicker I can help end it the less good men like yourself have to handle it." He hoped it made sense, he knew what he was trying to say, but wording it had become difficult. Now Colly spoke of Rhys, and his death, it burned McMillan up a bit inside, then he found out it had been Luther that cut him down, it had better have been in the face of combat, if Luther killed him for the sport of it, which Ed was inclined to believe Luther was capable of, he wouldn't stand next to the guy on the field of warfare. Luther was a pretty well off combatant, but He had already rubbed McMillan the wrong way during their first and only encounter, but there were a few stories floating about pertaining to the lunatic. "That's why Ive done this, so fewer good men have to die!"

Why hadn't McMillan run from Rafael? Who else would face that monster? "Why didn't I run from Wolfram? Who else in their right mind would stand toe to toe with that behemoth of a commander? Liam sounds as if he would now, but that's about it, heard of some American boys putting a good smack on that crazy Doctor Strumfelder, but don't know if that was luck or what."

Again Colly pushed harder for the truth, and McMillan figured it was high time he got the brutal honest end of it. "Look, in war the better, stronger, and smarter force wins, PERIOD, that is just how it is! Well from where I'm sitting, the only way to end this thing as quickly as possible is to make the side with the highest chance of winning, better then it already is. The Allies were screwed from the start of this shit, if they are too weak to handle it then they should have kept their young men alive longer and kept their nose out of this garbage. Now, being all high and mighty they have to pay a price, and it all boils down to the fucking politics of the matter. It's bull shit and good men have to die to fix it!" McMillan was just about irate now, but he tried to keep his voice low to keep their meeting as secretive as possible. "So if me joining the SS ends this quicker, so be it, I want it over with, if this is what it takes, this is what I'll do, you'd do well to think it over yourself someday."

[Stephen Colly]

Maybe it was because Stephen had never seen this side of McMillan, the part that was obsessed with the blood and the death and the terror of war that he now found it rather confusing, rather upsetting in a way. Nothing else he could learn from the Allies? Stephen wasn’t getting it, not one bit. ”I…no…” he said honestly during the pause that followed.

Now it made sense…in a way…Edward wanted to help young men…boys even from going to their deaths…that were reasonable enough. Stephen had heard stories of young boys, one had been 14, going off to the trenches in the Great War. You just had to look at the lists of names on the war memorials in villages and towns – Harry Jackson – aged 14 – died November 1916…the list went on…and it was happening, Stephen had seen boys that looked 15 but claimed they were 19 in the barracks back at training…boys wanting to fight for their country and here was Stephen, giving bugger all for his country…wanting to find his horse.

Edward’s voice came floating back into his head and he blinked as he tried to concentrate on what the man was saying, he listened closely. ”You could have stayed on the Allies side and done that…” he muttered in response to Edward saying that he had gone over to help good men not die.
Edward started to rant like Stephen had just done, Edward’s voice seemed to be getting louder and louder, telling the brutal truth that Stephen needed to know but didn’t want to be told or to hear…his voice became low again.

”But…but…are you saying the Allies won’t win? Ed, have you heard what those Nazis have been doing to the Jews? Apparently they have been rounding them up and putting them in ghettos, do you really want that to happen to the rest of the world? I bet you the Allies don’t do things like that…Hitler is a mad man; he was the one who started this so called shit. Didn’t he? Us Allies were the ones who won the last war because we were the stronger, better and more smarter force then.” he paused and bit his lip, his heart pounding as he heard what Edward said after it.

”What? Are you saying that I should join the Nazis? Ed, I’m in a British uniform, I’ll be shot at first sight.” he said blankly as he felt the horse’s nose at his shoulder and he stroked it with the back of his hand in the dark.