Post by Rolf Jäger on Sept 1, 2010 21:07:22 GMT
Rolf could hazily make out the Leutnant's outline and squinting the one good eye that had been still left functional, he tried his best to focus the image. The Hauptmann stared dazedly at the Wehrmacht officer, one hand reaching towards him, his mind far too fuddled to connect all the dots anymore. He was planning on helping him, doing something useful, but his thoughts kept eluding him like mischievous little animals, running from him each time he thought he had finally managed to grasp hold of them. He had no idea on how to exactly help the Leutnant with his gunshot wound and the harder he tried to figure it out, the more confusing his thoughts transformed. Had he called for a medic and had one already arrived? Where was it that the Leutnant had been shot again? What were the soldiers doing? The man turned his head slightly to see the two Wehrmacht men still bickering with each other, but the words turned into a distant mumble in Rolf's ears and his attention was drawn away from the men as he felt someone firmly grasping him by his hand. The Hauptmann's gaze moved slowly to regard the other injured man and he blinked, just feeling himself being pulled and lifted, which was a strange feeling since he was having a difficult time just registering the presence of his legs. Confusion was evident in the Luftwaffe officer's grey eyes as he realized that it was the Leutnant pulling him back to his feet, as if he had expected him to be dead already or just reluctant to lend such aid to him in the first place.
Somehow he found himself standing upon his pair of wobbly feet and the Hauptmann swayed in his place precariously, realizing that the Leutnant had disappeared from his field of vision and that he had to stand on his own once more. It was curious how he could still hear his voice, sharp and angry commands being barked at the soldiers from somewhere in his vicinity, yet he could only see the blurry figures of the two men among the even more blurred shapes of sand-coloured tents. The pain had become something that seemed to belong into one's normal state of everyday existence and while he still felt each sharp pang of agony upon his face and his ribs, the sensations did not seem significant enough to make note of anymore. The sky had turned darker and Rolf blinked his better eye, wondering just how much time had passed while the sounds of an argument grew distant around him. A fleeting thought of the Leutnant and his injury changed into a memory of him getting kicked in the face, the sound of a gunshot mixing with the chorus of mocking laughter. The Hauptmann was already swaying heavily to his other side when someone suddenly appeared by his side and prevented him for falling back upon the sand. Something about the Leutnant was being said and then he was already pushed and pulled to another direction and Rolf could only lean his weight on his mysterious assistant, trying not to stumble over his own feet.
Unintelligible mumbling escaped from Rolf's lips as he tried to glance behind him and then, turn around and return back for reasons he could not even begin to fathom. It was a struggle easily left unnoticed and the soldier dragging the Hauptmann along only pulled him away more forcefully until Rolf could no longer discern the Leutnant's voice and he was left wondering where exactly he was heading off to. He directed his gaze in front of him instead, trying to remember what had happened during the course of the last few minutes, yet each time he felt he was getting closer to the answer, a sharp pain suddenly snapped its vicious teeth at him, rendering the effort useless. He submitted into being dragged to whatever direction the soldier was taking him while he returned back to the moment when he had been pinned against the ground, felt the Leutnant's boot connecting with his face and then hearing the gunshot ringing through the nightly air. He knew something had happened in between those moments, but only an empty, black hole existed where a memory should have been. Trying to make sense of the events was making him tired and he let go of the thoughts, allowing himself to spiral into a state of dizzying images of tents passing by, of his black boots kicking up sand as he stumbled ahead and of the figure of a soldier walking next to him and supporting his weight.
The Hauptmann trudged along, no more able to make sense of his surroundings or the time that had passed, but someone calling his name pulled him from this state of constant stupor. He could recognize the voice and even though it seemed muffled, as if the other person was shouting at him from inside a building, he soon felt someone grasping him by the shoulder and Rolf frowned, attempting to put a name on the face he saw. "Kronberg," Rolf rasped slowly, slumping forwards as the Wehrmacht soldier released his hold of the Hauptmann and Kronberg hurried in to assist him instead. He could register the stream of questions the Hauptfeldwebel was asking him, but he was completely unable to answer any of them, only realizing that he was moving forwards again, bumping into something metallic and cold. Rolf noticed himself sitting down and he found it amusingly curious how things simply seemed to happen on their own, while an engine rumbled to life, curiously reminding the Hauptmann of his fighter. He rested his back against the seat and closed his left eye after he felt he had looked at fuzzy and out-of-focus things for long enough.
It did not matter where he was going or what had happened in the cold and painful reality - these things were far too unpleasant and raw to even consider and his mind had been locked on one of the images he could make some sense of, one he would have rather remained in. Rolf could see the emerald eyes looking at him once more, their gaze understanding and merciful, while the woman's warm hand rested gently upon his chest, further encouraging the man to remain in that moment. It was a request the Hauptmann was more than ready to oblige to and he allowed the sounds and sensations around him fade into the background until they no longer existed, allowing him to further sink through the waves of pain and finally settle lying in the darkness of his own thoughts. He locked himself in that little space, throwing away the key, drawing the shades over the windows and allowing that one single image to replay itself over and over again until it was the only thing that existed - that had ever existed - the thought filling him with a warm and silent tranquillity.
Somehow he found himself standing upon his pair of wobbly feet and the Hauptmann swayed in his place precariously, realizing that the Leutnant had disappeared from his field of vision and that he had to stand on his own once more. It was curious how he could still hear his voice, sharp and angry commands being barked at the soldiers from somewhere in his vicinity, yet he could only see the blurry figures of the two men among the even more blurred shapes of sand-coloured tents. The pain had become something that seemed to belong into one's normal state of everyday existence and while he still felt each sharp pang of agony upon his face and his ribs, the sensations did not seem significant enough to make note of anymore. The sky had turned darker and Rolf blinked his better eye, wondering just how much time had passed while the sounds of an argument grew distant around him. A fleeting thought of the Leutnant and his injury changed into a memory of him getting kicked in the face, the sound of a gunshot mixing with the chorus of mocking laughter. The Hauptmann was already swaying heavily to his other side when someone suddenly appeared by his side and prevented him for falling back upon the sand. Something about the Leutnant was being said and then he was already pushed and pulled to another direction and Rolf could only lean his weight on his mysterious assistant, trying not to stumble over his own feet.
Unintelligible mumbling escaped from Rolf's lips as he tried to glance behind him and then, turn around and return back for reasons he could not even begin to fathom. It was a struggle easily left unnoticed and the soldier dragging the Hauptmann along only pulled him away more forcefully until Rolf could no longer discern the Leutnant's voice and he was left wondering where exactly he was heading off to. He directed his gaze in front of him instead, trying to remember what had happened during the course of the last few minutes, yet each time he felt he was getting closer to the answer, a sharp pain suddenly snapped its vicious teeth at him, rendering the effort useless. He submitted into being dragged to whatever direction the soldier was taking him while he returned back to the moment when he had been pinned against the ground, felt the Leutnant's boot connecting with his face and then hearing the gunshot ringing through the nightly air. He knew something had happened in between those moments, but only an empty, black hole existed where a memory should have been. Trying to make sense of the events was making him tired and he let go of the thoughts, allowing himself to spiral into a state of dizzying images of tents passing by, of his black boots kicking up sand as he stumbled ahead and of the figure of a soldier walking next to him and supporting his weight.
The Hauptmann trudged along, no more able to make sense of his surroundings or the time that had passed, but someone calling his name pulled him from this state of constant stupor. He could recognize the voice and even though it seemed muffled, as if the other person was shouting at him from inside a building, he soon felt someone grasping him by the shoulder and Rolf frowned, attempting to put a name on the face he saw. "Kronberg," Rolf rasped slowly, slumping forwards as the Wehrmacht soldier released his hold of the Hauptmann and Kronberg hurried in to assist him instead. He could register the stream of questions the Hauptfeldwebel was asking him, but he was completely unable to answer any of them, only realizing that he was moving forwards again, bumping into something metallic and cold. Rolf noticed himself sitting down and he found it amusingly curious how things simply seemed to happen on their own, while an engine rumbled to life, curiously reminding the Hauptmann of his fighter. He rested his back against the seat and closed his left eye after he felt he had looked at fuzzy and out-of-focus things for long enough.
It did not matter where he was going or what had happened in the cold and painful reality - these things were far too unpleasant and raw to even consider and his mind had been locked on one of the images he could make some sense of, one he would have rather remained in. Rolf could see the emerald eyes looking at him once more, their gaze understanding and merciful, while the woman's warm hand rested gently upon his chest, further encouraging the man to remain in that moment. It was a request the Hauptmann was more than ready to oblige to and he allowed the sounds and sensations around him fade into the background until they no longer existed, allowing him to further sink through the waves of pain and finally settle lying in the darkness of his own thoughts. He locked himself in that little space, throwing away the key, drawing the shades over the windows and allowing that one single image to replay itself over and over again until it was the only thing that existed - that had ever existed - the thought filling him with a warm and silent tranquillity.
