Death and Dismay

[axel]

Date: December 20th, 1944
Time: 0600 Hours
Location:The Bastogne Line

Belguim was torn in two by the "Battle of the Bulge" as dubbed by the Allies. The lines of the American Airborne troops was spread thin, occasionally landing inside of the Wehrmacht lines. It was a complete disaster for the German forces as well. American and German soldiers would frequently wander into the lines of both sides and the morale was low. The Medics were tending to more wounded than they had supplies for, and many of them were forced to attempt stealing from the other sides. Some times, when the medics came upon soldiers of other sides, instead of caring for them they would steal any medical supplies they could get there hands on. Axel Bauer was no exception to this. The young Austrian noble had stolen a lot of medical supplies from wounded soldiers, his morphine and bandages were exceptionally low. The company he had been attached to often looked down upon him wandering around the lines by himself, but he did it any ways, for he needed to save lives, and to do that he needed medical supplies. Occasionally, he would go to an aid station and steal as much as he could, but even then that was not enough, for the aid station had little supplies. Most of the supplies that Germany had were being handed out carefully across both the Eastern and Western Fronts, and even then that was not much.

Axel had to pick and choose who to save now a days, it was not like France anymore where he could afford to bandage the dying, he had to only help those who could be saved now, no handing morphine to those soldiers who were bleeding to death, no using his bandages and tourniquets on those who's arteries were cut. He had to pick, and this put a lot of stress on him. He wanted to save everybody but couldn't, at night he would often sit in his foxhole and pray or weep for the ones that needed death eased, and went in pain. He hoped that none of this would come back to haunt him, he did not do the choosing on his own accord, he did it because he was ordered to. He would often hear the cry "Sanitäter!" and not be able to help them for their injuries would cause them death. He now sat in his foxhole with a cup of soup that had been made from an officer's prized horse. When the officer had died, his horse was killed and turned into food. The meat was rubbery and tough, and the broth was bland and without spices, but it was better than nothing.

Axel sipped on his soup and got out his shaving kit. He set the mirror up on his medical bag, the bag had just enough supplies to hold a stiff surface for the mirror. He took out his shaving razor and the frozen cream. He took his lighter and melted the frozen liquid. Taking the brush, he dipped it in a cup of water and dipped it in the cream. He lathered it on his face and took the shaving razor, cutting close and precisely. He finished up and washed the cream remaining off his face with the ice cold water. He dried it on the sleeve of his jacket and put on his white helmet. The Red Cross symbol on it was a bit dirty and the helmet was nicked. He did not wear the apron that had the red cross on it anymore, he only wore the arm band and helmet. The apron had been torn by a piece of shrapnel that barely missed his stomach a few days ago, and he neglected to wear the shredded apron.

Axel slung his medical bag over his shoulder and began his walk across the line his company had been stretched on. It was snowy, but the blanket of white had gaping, black holes in it from artillery. It was a terrible sight, after all, in Austria he enjoyed the winter, he had even been in Belgium before, but now the Belgium he knew was cut in half by American forces, and it was littered with blown out buildings and poor, starving people. He came across the first couple foxholes and nodded to the soldiers. They smiled and nodded back. That's when he heard the all too familiar call, "Sanitäter!" Axel sprinted as hard as he could toward the call. It was far down the line, nearing where the Americans had been wandering through. He finally came across the scene. A young Feldwebel who had scarred the white blanket beneath him with crimson. His leg was bleeding terribly. But it was not an artery wound, as far as he could tell. The young Feldwebel was gritting his teeth.

"Wir versehentlich wanderte durch den amerikanischen Linien, und er wurde erschossen, weil er rief, das Denken der Soldat war einer von uns." explained a soldier as Axel knelt down.

"Machen Sie sich keine Sorgen, Sie leben, Herr Feldwebel," said Axel calmly as he reached into his medical bag and retrieved sulfur.

Axel lifted the leg up and found the exit wound near his calf. He poured sulfur on the leg and wrapped it up tightly. He put a syrette of morphine into the man's thigh and squeezed the tube. He tapped on his leg and smiled up to the Feldwebel.

"Holen Sie ihn auf die Hilfe-Station," said Axel.

The soldiers nodded and picked the man up. Axel closed his medical bag and continued his walk down the line. It was mostly uneventful.

Translations:
Wir versehentlich wanderte durch den amerikanischen Linien, und er wurde erschossen, weil er rief, das Denken der Soldat war einer von uns. - We accidentally wandered through the American lines and he was shot because he called out, thinking the soldier was one of us.

Machen Sie sich keine Sorgen, Sie leben, Herr Feldwebel - Don't worry you will live, Feldwebel.

Holen Sie ihn auf die Hilfe-Station - Take him to the Aid Station.

[amsel]

"Herr Amsel! Herr Amsel!" Yelled a man while he banged on the door of the occupied house. Ludwig Amsel was asleep in an occupied house in a town about 30 miles from the line. Amsel woke up quickly to the yelling. He got out of bed, wiped his eyes and looked around a bit. He had not slept very good the night before and was paying for that now. He answered the door and let the man in. It was a Pvt that was going to take Amsel to the front that morning. Amsel put on his Uniform jacket and pants. He shined his boots and put them on as well. He grabbed hold of his helmet and set it upon his head. He was very tired and really did not want to go to the front. He heard stories about the Americans executing any German that surrendered and didn't want to believe it, nor find out for himself. The stories he heard were so gruesome. Sometimes he didn't know what would be worse the eastern front or the western front. He sure as hell hoped the eastern front was worse. He sometimes wondered what it would be like if the allied powers hadn't started a war with Germany for taking Europe. He wondered what Germany would be like without Hitler and if he would still be home with his family. He tried to get the thoughts out of his head, but it seemed to never work.


Ludwig got a slice of bread with some butter for breakfast. He also enjoyed a quick cup of coffee, and appreciated being able to enjoy such good things since they were in short supply. He than searched around for his medical bag, but had no luck. "Fucking thing, where could it be" Ludwig muttered. "Excuse me sir? Said the Pvt. Amsel just glared to him and than continued looking for his bag. He found it sitting under the bed he had slept on. He checked it to make sure his supplies were all there. Earlier in the war Amsel had stacked up on supplies he would need, since he had a feeling that stuff would go short supplied. He slung the bag over his shoulder and looked in a mirror in the room. Amsel had 5'o clock shadow and had bags under his eyes. "This war is already lost" Amsel said under his breath. He walked out to see the Pvt. The Pvt was now sitting in the driver seat of an Opel blitz. In the back were six Wehrmacht Cpls. Three of the Cpls looked young and fresh from training, while the other three looked middle aged and like they haven't slept in ages and have seen many things. "The young will die and the Vets will survive" Amsel thought. Amsel got in the passenger side and nodded. The Pvt started driving toward the front.



Amsel thought about what kind of hell the front must have been and if his comrades were doing alright. He than reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a cigarette. "Last one" said Amsel while pulling out a lighter. He placed the cigarette in his mouth and lit it. He puffed it slowly and let the smoke stay in his mouth a couple seconds before letting it flow out of his mouth like the mist in the morning. He put his head back and closed his eyes. He prayed that he would get to the line in time to deliver some supplies. Amsel finished his cigarette and dropped the filter on the floor of the Blitz. "Where are you from?" The curious Pvt asked. "Bahnhof and you?" Amsel replied rather quickly. "oh i am from Mittenwald" The Pvt said. Amsel looked to the Pvt and nodded. He than looked out the window with silence just admiring the scenery while he could. He took off his helmet and pulled a wooden comb from his jacket pocket. He started combing his hair to the left side. He returned the comb to his pocket and placed his helmet back on his head. He opened up his medical bag and counted out how much of each supply he had. He always kept track of how much he had in his bag or in his pocket if he had stripped it from an enemy or fallen comrade.


Suddenly the truck encountered mortar fire. "Hang on tight!" Screamed the Pvt. The truck started to zig zag as it engaged the front. Mortar shells exploded near the truck sending shrapnel everywhere. "How the hell are their mortar shells reaching us on the road?!?!" Amsel questioned. "I don't know!" Shouted the Pvt. A mortar shell exploded right behind the truck. The shrapnel hit the men in the back injuring two and killing one. "Arzt!, Arzt!, Arzt!" screamed the two injured in the back. "Hang on!" Shouted Amsel. Amsel could see men in the forest straight ahead. He knew immediatly it was his comrades. A mortar shell struck right infront of the Opel blitz sending shrapnel through the window. A large piece of it struck the Pvt's throat. He grabbed his neck and struggled to breath while blood poured from his throat. Amsel quickly hit the Pvt's left leg causing the break to be hit, thus stopping the Opel blitz. Amsel jumped out knowing there was no chance for the Pvt. He quickly ran to the back and helped the remaining men out. He pulled the shrapnel out of the two injured and bandaged them up. Ludwig than ran toward the forest. A man infront of him tripped and was left behind to get up himself. A mortar shell landed directly on him sending blood and pieces of the man up in the air and around the area. Blood hit Amsel's face while he kept running.


Amsel made it to a foxhole that contained of only one German. He jumped down in there and quickly prayed for his life. He looked to the German. "Name and rank" The German demanded. "Sanitätsunteroffizier Ludwig Amsel und sie?" Amsel said. "Feldwebel Schlange" The German sneered. Amsel saluted him and than quickly hopped out of the foxhole. He ran to another foxhole that contained three Germans. Before he could get into it a mortar struck it, sending Amsel back with a piece of shrapnel in his chest and killing the Germans in the foxhole. "Arzt!" Amsel yelled to the top of his lungs. After not being responded too he pulled the shrapnel out himself and applied a bandage. He thought about injecting a sryette but decided it was best not to. He looked over to a medic just walking through the mortar fire. "What the hell?!?!" Amsel thought. He quickly ran to the medic and grabbed his arm. He quickly brought him to an empty foxhole and put himself and the medic in it. "What's your name and rank? And why the hell were you walking through that crap?!?!" Amsel shouted over the mortar blasts. Amsel pulled out 4 bandages, 6 sryettes, and 3 plasma's. He handed them to the medic. "Take these, only thing i can spare currently" Amsel insisted. He than checked his medical bag once more. He pulled out a small flask he kept hidden underneath the bandages. He unscrewed the cap and took a swig. He held it out to the other medic. "Want some? it's stroh 80" Amsel said, offering the medic some liqour.

[axel]

"Weil die meine Arbeit, Herr Unteroffizier. Und danke," said Axel as he retrieved the medical supplies and took a swig of the alcohol.

"Ich bin Sanitätsobersoldat Bauer, und sollten Sie mir einen Blick auf die," said Axel as he pointed to the NCO's chest. It was soaking the bandage, and the bandage work looked a bit sloppy and rushed.

The incoming mortar barrage didn't seem to bother the calm, collected Medic. He took the bandage off and looked at the wound. He saw that it wasn't deep at all, lucky for the NCO medic. He ripped open a package of sulfur and poured it on. He applied a fresh bandage from one of the spools the Sanitätsunteroffizier gave him. He wrapped it tightly, but loose enough so the man could breathe and safety pinned it closed.

"Wenn das Adrenalin läuft aus, die Sie brauchen einige Morphin, und es müssen Stiche," said Axel.

As the mortar barrage stopped, he listened for any cries for help. After a few moments he heard some screams that were close. He put his fresh supplies in his bag and jumped out of the foxhole, dashing toward the sound. As he ran, the snow beneath him crunched, and his very traceable footprints were left. His jacket was now covered in melting snow, and the running made his face red with cold, and his already chapped lips were becoming raw. His leather boots had once been polished neatly, but now they were covered in mud and snow. As he neared the screaming man, he saw that he was missing a segment of his arm, from forearm down. He got down on his knees and quickly got out a tourniquet. He strapped it just above the injury and pulled the straps tight. He then got out his few remaining sulfur packets. He held the bleeding arm up and doused the large, gaping wound in it. The man screamed in pain as the tight tourniquet that was saving his life was nearly digging into his skin. Axel got out his bandages and wrapped the exposed wound up. He got out four of his now ten syrettes out, stabbing them all in the man's arm. He squeezed one after the other, as the pain dulled, and shock set in he looked to the man and held his head up.

"Halten Sie Ihre Augen auf mir!" he whispered as he rubbed the man's head, attempting to soothe him.

"Jemand mir eine Decke für diesen Mann! Er wird in Schock!" screamed Axel into the snow.

Suddenly, a Leutnant came running up with a blanket. Axel laid it on the man and tucked it under his body. The Leutnant called for a radioman to get a jeep down here. After a few moments, the jeep came. The driver got out and grabbed the stretcher off the front. Axel helped him move the severely injured man onto the hood and the driver strapped in the jeep. He revved the engine and the jeep zoomed off.

"Danke, Herr Leutnant," said Axel with a smile.

"Bitte, bitte," he replied.

Axel saluted him and bent down, wiped his bloody hands off in the snow. He grabbed some snow and blew on it, he rubbed it in his hands as it melted, washing the blood off as best he could. He continued his check of the line, as he was meaning to before the mortar barrage had cut it short. He re-checked some foxholes and continued on. There wasn't anything very exciting, except a guy with very bad trench foot. He gave the man some pain pills to crunch up and ordered him to the Aid Station. He eventually slowed his pace to a stroll, thinking not much could be happening at the moment, why bother jogging about. He lit up a cigarette and started taking drags off of it. He had only started smoking when he got into real, live combat.

Translations:
Weil die meine Arbeit, Herr Unteroffizier. Und danke - Because that is my job, Unteroffizier.

Ich bin Sanitätsobersoldat Bauer, und sollten Sie mir einen Blick auf die - I am Sanitätsobersoldat Bauer, and you should let me look at that.

Wenn das Adrenalin läuft aus, die Sie brauchen einige Morphin, und es müssen Stiche - When the adrenaline wears off, that is going to need some morphine, and it might need stitches.

Halten Sie Ihre Augen auf mir! - Keep your eyes on me!

Danke, Herr Leutnant, - Thank you, sir.

Bitte, bitte, - You're welcome, you're welcome.

[amsel]

"Danke Bauer" Amsel said to Axel as he fixed the bandaging. Once Bauer was out of the fox hole another man entered. He looked to Amsel and offered him a cigarette. Amsel thanked the lieutenant. The lieutenant handed Amsel a cigarette right when the shelling started up again. The lieutenant ran toward another fox hole but a mortar shell struck right in front of him sending him right in front of the foxhole Amsel was in. The lieutenant's legs were severed an a piece of shrapnel had struck centimeters next to the heart. "Shoot me Amsel, it is an order!" The lieutenant exclaimed toward Amsel. Amsel nodded and pulled out his luger. He aimed his 7.65x22mm parabellum handgun toward the lieutenants head and pulled the trigger. A combination of blood, brain matter, and tissue exploded when the round hit the lieutenants head. Amsel replaced the luger in its holster and just stared at the former body of the lieutenant. Amsel heard a horrific scream coming from a near foxhole. Amsel leapt up and darted toward the scream. He hopped into the foxhole and saw a Cpl holding his now stump of a leg. The severed leg was lying right next to amsel. Amsel quickly took out a sryette and injected it in the upper part of the leg. He took out a flask and poured some of the contents on the wound. He than handed the man the flask which only had 1/4 of its original content left. The Cpl took a swig out of it and handed it back to Amsel. Amsel than bandaged the wound and handed the man the severed leg. Amsel saw a kubelwagen with a wounded man on it. "Stop! we got another wounded!" Exclaimed Amsel. Amsel helped the Cpl up and carried him to the kubelwagen. He placed the Cpl in the passenger seat and tapped his hand on the side of the kubelwagen. The driver drove the two injured men off in the direction he had came from.



A few hours later the shelling had stopped and the wounded were evacuated or at least being attempted to. Amsel sat in a foxhole with his cap pulled down over his eyes. His hands were folded and resting on his stomach. The fighting was still going on but both sides were doing horrible with trying to kill the enemy. It was only 10 am and the fighting had been going on nonstop since 6 am. Amsel was just about to fall asleep when a grenade landed in his foxhole. He heard the noise of it falling in and he quickly hopped up and grabbed the grenade. He threw it back and quickly dropped to the ground covering his head. The grenade exploded in mid air sending shrapnel in all directions. A man who was out of his fox hole payed the price with his life. Shrapnel had pierced his trachea and he had lost the ability to breath. Amsel wanted to save him but knew he wouldn't be able to. Amsel thought of what it must be like to know you're going to die and there is nothing you can do. Amsel hopped out of his trench and ran to the man. He decided to try to save the man even if it does risk his own life. He pulled out his knife and cut a hole in the man's trachea and than cut the back off an empty sryette and placed it in the hole. He prayed that it would help the man's breathing. Unfortunately it didn't help the man, the man died shortly after. Amsel started to run to the right. He didn't see a foxhole and fell into it. He looked and saw Bauer or well what he thought to be Bauer sitting in the trench. "Bauer?" Amsel questioned. The man shook his head left and right. Amsel worried about his new friend Bauer. Amsel jumped out of the trench and looked around for Bauer. Bauer was walking with a cigarette in his mouth. Amsel ran up to him and grabbed him by his collar. He brought him to the nearest empty foxhole and dropped him into it and went in it himself. "Bauer when the enemy is firing don't make yourself an target" Amsel giving Bauer advice. "Many men I've seen paid with their lives for stupid mistakes as such." Amsel said.




Amsel stared at Bauer for a few moments. "Where are you from Bauer? What did you do before the war?" Question after question Amsel asked Bauer. Amsel didn't speak much of himself but was very intrigued by others personal information. The Horror of war showed on Amsel's face but he didn't seem to act like he was even in battle. Some men thought Amsel had lost his mind others just found him plain weird. Amsel hadn't lost his mind nor was he weird, he just tried to discuss things to keep his mind off of the battle and horrifying things going on around him. Amsel reached into his luger holster and pulled his luger out. He quickly discharged the clip and reloaded a new one just to make sure it was full. He than popped out of cover and fired at the Americans that were firing at the Germans. Amsel got back into cover after wasting a clip on Americans. He reloaded and held it by himself just incase the Americaans tried to charge the German lines. "So Bauer what places have you seen action?" Amsel asked intrigued by Bauer.