Freedom of Choice [Wagner]

[olivervontrapp]

Area; Berlin, Germany
Time: 17:23
Weather: Wet and rainy.

Raindrops fell to the ground as Oliver Jack Von Trapp sat on the stairs leading up to a garden full of roses and flowers. He loved rainy evenings. He could play in the rain and nobody could tell him off now that his parents were in the jail houses. Although, he simply chose not to that evening. He just sat on the stairs and watched the rain pound itself on the ground. It was basically a storm. He wasn't scared of lightning and thunder, no, he was a strong hero and he would remain that way forever.

People holding knitted umbrellas would often pass by him and give him evil eyes and very odd looks, and yet some would just walk past and ignore him. Or sometimes, some would just pass him and give him a nice, warm-hearted smile for being a good little Aryan Nazi, evil-minded boy. He liked that. He didn't say he didn't like it, although, he knew it was wrong. Being a Hitler Jugend did not change his world, although, it just kept it constant and evil.

He had met many people along his journey of life. Many of them interesting, many of them fun, many of them cold and cruel and many of them just boring. Although most were cold and cruel. That was basically Berlin for you nowadays. Many did not care to even take a short glance at you, they just walked. They thought of themselves as superiors, but really, in Oliver's opinion, they were scums. Dirty old scums who had no lives but to criticise other people for what they looked like, how they spoke, how they dressed and what their manners were like. It was fairly pathetic to look or even dream of.

Boom! Came the air raids. It was every day Berlin. It never stopped. Bang! Another person shot a Jew. It was utterly disgusting and disgraceful to look at. He pushed himself off the stairs and made his way over to a newspaper stand. He placed a few Euros into the mans hands and the man gave him what he had desired for. News. News about Germany, news about everywhere, he wanted to know everything.

He simply sat himself down on a bench and began reading. He could read and write just like any other citizen. Some couldn't, nobody could blame them for not having a good education. As for Oliver, he had a great education. He was an Aryan. Air Raids in France - Attacked by Germany. It wasn't surprising. A lot of things happened and they just kept on becoming more interesting and interesting by the minute. He glanced up, watching the people walk past him, not bothering to look at him. But all of a sudden, the streets were empty. Not a person in sight. It was quite creepy. He just sat there, with a blank expression on his pale coloured face.

[heinz]

It was a dark, dreary, and damp night in Germany. Then again, every night is now as Heinz is still on furlough. He longed to be with his men, yet he could gain no reprieve. Instead, he just sat at home, night after night, hoping, waiting, longing, and yearning for the day when he would be called off of his long leave from injury back into combat with the 21st. He however, did like the rainy weather. It was much more calmer and tranquil than the sand storms in Tunisia. At least here the rain could not harm you, and it brought with it cooler weather. In Africa, the sand brings with it dry, barren heat and arid winds, which pelt your face, making it hard to breathe. He didn’t much take to the weather there, but it was better than the weather in the Eastern Frontier, where cold and bitter days gave way to even colder and more bitter nights. Either way, Heinz took this nice reprieve from such desolate conditions without reluctance, and he actually enjoyed the pitter patter of rain against the awning of his house.

However, the day was long and mundane. Nothing seemed to interest Heinz for awhile. Jews shot, air raids, Germans beaten back by allies; all of this old news to the Veteran Hauptman. He longed for excitement. He however, did not know where to look. It was by some odd compulsion that Heinz left his house this night. He had no planned destination, and he seemed to walk, torpid look on his face, aimlessly throughout town. The rain drenched Heinz, and yet, he was not cold. He just continued to walk, knowing that there was something for him to do. What, he did not know. Much to the contrary, Heinz did not believe in fate. He was not that superstitious of a person. Being an atheist from childhood, Heinz merely wrote off most of the miraculous occurrences in his life as just happenstance. That was, of course, the only thing a rational mind could do.

Heinz came down a street which was laden with news kiosks, restaurants, and other services that were useful to the German populous. At this time however, his legs began to ache from walking. It had been two hours since he began, and the rain began to pick up steadily, beating up against his body with much vigor. He needed a place to rest, and he spotted a small bench where a young boy could be seen reading. He scoffed, not wanting to sit next to the youngling. He would rather keep walking. Younger kids, Heinz thought, were the source of much petulance on the streets of Germany, especially the orphans, who just ran around, spreading mischief and their revelries. Life, Heinz thought, would be much easier if they just didn’t exist. However, Heinz knew that Germany, like any war beast, needed wood to feed its mighty fires. These children would soon enlist in the Hitlerjunge, and like the adolescents there now, they would become full-fledged SS men. As he stood there, Heinz speculated this, and he came to the conclusion that he did not know why these young boys had to go through training to become SS. They are already indoctrinated fools, he thought, why brainwash them further? Just give them a gun and tell them to kill; they won’t disappoint you. They may lack skills with a rifle, but what better way to test them but in battle. That is, after all, where the veteran Hauptman picked up his skill; in battle and in the field.

Heinz’s train of thought ended here, but not by his free will. Rather, it was his lingering injury that he suffered at Al Alamein, which causes his Hamstring to buckle, sending him to the ground, writhing in agony. He needed to sit now, and he decided to take a seat at that bench where the young boy was. He limped over, grimacing as he went, to the bench. Heinz sat down very slowly, trying to not further complicate his healing wound. He looked over at the child quickly, and as the child noticed him, he scoffed, and looked in the opposite direction.

[olivervontrapp]

The moment the young boy had blinked, he noticed an SS man sitting next to him. Wait, that was sort of awkward. One minute the place is empty and the next, a man who looks as if he were over sixty years old, which he probably wasn't, was sitting next to him? He noticed the scoff, oh god the scoff. Just like the other ignorant Germans around. They scoffed at him just because he was a child. Oliver sighed just tried to forget about it for a few seconds. It seemed that he couldn't. Oliver could never let go of anything, it was just one major quirk about him. He glanced towards the opposite direction too, swinging his legs back and forth. The bench was quite a bit tall and he was quite a bit short.

He glanced back towards the man. He slightly picked up the newspaper and began reading on for a few minutes. He flipped through a page and began another until he came to a halt. He slightly put the newspaper down and glanced back up at the man with his "Aryan like" eyes. They flickered on his. The man looked pretty boring, just like any other SS man he had come across with. He also noticed his leg gestures. Oliver wondered what happened to the man. It must've been terrible. He shrugged and pushed away all his thoughts, placing his newpaper down.

"Sie wissen, sie waren sobald ein kind auch." Yes, he did choose to begin a conversation. What was the fun in keeping quiet? Oliver could tell what the man was thinking by his grimaces and scoffs. He sighed and noticed that the rain's capacity had increased by a few metres. He pulled out his hand and felt the raindrops hit his palm. It felt pretty cool. He enjoyed the presence of rain. He ran his icy fingers through his brown hair. It was in a mess, but he didn't mind. Nobody did, actually. All of a sudden, little snowflakes began falling from the sky. They felt like bombs to be honest. It was a snowing. Oh, joy - he mentally noted with deep sarcasm. [Translations: You know, you were once a child too.]

"Ich frage mich, zu welchem ein SS Soldat zu sein, aufgelegt ist." He slightly muttered. "Ich wette, dass das großartig ist." He sighed. Hitler Jugend was a tab' boring for the young boy. He had gotten bored of the subjects. They learnt the exact same thing every day. Why couldn't they have something different? Like, maybe, adventures? He loved going on adventures. He desired to explore. Now that he had no family whatsoever, he could go and explore any time of the day. Well, he did have a family but they weren't present at the moment. They were in quite a bad place called jail. He didn't like thinking about it so he pushed those thoughts away. [Translation: [1] I wonder what being an SS soldier feels like. [2] I bet it's magnificent.]

[heinz]

This child, who was sitting next to Heinz, seemed to be intrigued by the veteran Hauptman. He continued to gawk at the man, with a slight sparkle of fascination in his eyes. Heinz still refused to acknowledge him, noting his appearance through his peripheral vision. He was a rather young child, around nine or ten years old, and he seemed very different from most children Heinz saw wondering the streets. He looked like a vagabond. Oh great, Heinz thought to himself, another kid who will most likely ask for money. Heinz looked the other way in disgust as the rain turned into an icy sleet, and then, methodically, underwent another metamorphosis into snow; such was spring in Germany-unpredictable. Much like these vagabond beggars, he never knew what to expect from the weather. The snow picked up in intensity, much like the rain did, and Heinz was forced to take off his officer’s hat, which left his immaculate black hair to flow in the breeze. He brushed off the snow from his hat, used his trench coat to polish out a scuff in the Wehrmacht eagle, which stood, perched proudly on the front of the hat, and put it back on his head. He moved it around, making minor adjustments in an attempt to make it straight again. His looks meant the world to him, and he knew that if some beautiful blonde German girl were to come down the street, he would have to look presentable.

The child then spoke. Heinz heard the words, and they sounded like mockery. Yes, Heinz was a child, much like the vagabond, but he was no orphan. He respected his mother and father’s wishes. Yes, from time to time he did steal from the local bakery, but, unlike the vagabond’s of today, he did not get away with it. He felt, many a time, the cold steel of his father’s belt buckle against his back. That was enough to keep his conscience in line. Heinz could have ignored the child all together, but he felt the need to reply. He wanted to make the kid feel the error of his foolishness, as such a comment was. So, he replied snidely, saying, “Tatsächlich war ich, aber ich klebte an meiner Mutter und den Wünschen des Vaters verschieden von einer verdammten Vagabundenwaise. Ich wurde auf einen strengen Code, derjenige erzogen, welcher morphed ich in den Soldaten ich heute bin. Sie andererseits, haben Sie keinen Führer im Leben. So sind Sie zur Minderjährigkeit und hinterhältiger Taktik gefallen, um Geld gerade wie jeder Arme in der Stadt zu gewinnen. Bitten Sie von mir um Jungen nicht, ich gebe Wohltätigkeit nicht.”

The boy then had the audacity to call him an SS soldier! An SS soldier! Heinz was offended, even though he knew it was just a child’s mistake. Then again, Heinz thought, it wasn’t his mistake, it was that damn Heinrich Himmler’s fault. Hell, if he were training Hitler Youth, you would think he would teach them the difference from a SS officer and a Wehrmacht one! Heinz loathed the SS. They were too high and mighty for him. They were the epitome of acrimony and audacity to Heinz. When they had received a 25 year service ribbon, then, then maybe they could become proud, like Heinz was of his ribbon, but not now; not when the only thing you have to your name is a pair of SS bolts on your collar. That wasn’t enough to be proud. In fact, the SS bolts on the collar of every SS man sickened him. It was the symbol of corruption, intolerance, and greed. Heinz kept that thought to himself, as he did not want to be labeled a hypocrite. Heinz knew that he had a mean and intolerant streak to his name, but his was justified. He earned it in battle. He had seen things that, ordinary men and SS soldier alike, couldn’t even fathom. Heinz’s face contorted with infuriation. He gave out a deep breath, trying to release some of his pent up anger. He then said, with a fake kindness, saying, Sie müssen verwechselt werden. Ich bin Wehrmacht, nicht Shutzstaffel. Ich bin nirgends in der Nähe von den Standards des SS, wie ich deutlich und für mich selbst denken kann. Ich blöke "Sieg Heil, Sieg Heil" in Bewunderung für den Fuhrer nicht. Statt dessen diene ich für Deutschland und nur Deutschland.”


Translations

-Tatsächlich war ich, aber ich klebte an meiner Mutter und den Wünschen des Vaters verschieden von einer verdammten Vagabundenwaise. Ich wurde auf einen strengen Code, derjenige erzogen, welcher morphed ich in den Soldaten ich heute bin. Sie andererseits, haben Sie keinen Führer im Leben. So sind Sie zur Minderjährigkeit und hinterhältiger Taktik gefallen, um Geld gerade wie jeder Arme in der Stadt zu gewinnen. Bitten Sie von mir um Jungen nicht, ich gebe Wohltätigkeit nicht.

"Indeed, I was, but I adhered to my mother and father's wishes, unlike some damn vagabond orphan. I was raised upon a strict code, that which morphed me into the soldier I am today. You on the other hand, have no guide in life. Thus, you have fallen to immaturity and underhanded tactics to gain money, just like every pauper in town. Don't beg from me boy, I don't give charity."

-Sie müssen verwechselt werden. Ich bin Wehrmacht, nicht Shutzstaffel. Ich bin nirgends in der Nähe von den Standards des SS, wie ich deutlich und für mich selbst denken kann. Ich blöke "Sieg Heil, Sieg Heil" in Bewunderung für den Fuhrer nicht. Statt dessen diene ich für Deutschland und nur Deutschland.

"You must be mistaken. I am Wehrmacht, not Shutzstaffel. I am nowhere near the standards of the SS, as I can think clearly and for myself. I do not bleat "Sieg Heil, Sieg Heil" in admiration of the Fuhrer. Instead, I serve for Germany and only Germany."

[olivervontrapp]

Tatsächlich war ich, aber ich klebte an meiner Mutter und den Wünschen des Vaters verschieden von einer verdammten Vagabundenwaise. Ich wurde auf einen strengen Code, derjenige erzogen, welcher morphed ich in den Soldaten ich heute bin. Sie andererseits, haben Sie keinen Führer im Leben. So sind Sie zur Minderjährigkeit und hinterhältiger Taktik gefallen, um Geld gerade wie jeder Arme in der Stadt zu gewinnen. Bitten Sie von mir um Jungen nicht, ich gebe Wohltätigkeit nicht."


Oliver couldn't help but stiffle a giggle at the man's strictness. He was a bit too strict. He kept on childishly giggling for a while until he came to a halt. Tsk...tsk...tsk. Why do all the Wehrmacht have to be that strict? Couldn't they stiffle a smile or something like that? That was one thing he hated about soldiers. Another thing was that half of them were mean and didn't care. They only cared about themselves. Idiots, Oliver thought of them. He sighed, leaning back on the bench, crossing his arms. Well that wasn't worth the speech, he thought. All he got was odd insults from the man.

He slightly scoffed. "So, ich bin nicht eine Waise, herr." He cocked an eyebrow. "Wirklich habe ich einen Wächter bereits. Er ist ein Teil des SS." This man was terriblt rude, although, it just made Oliver laugh more and more at his ignorance. He placed his hand over his mouth to stop his rudness. He couldn't help it. This man was practically hilarious! Alas, he had come to a halt. He sat up straight and didn't bother glancing at the man for quite a while. [Translations: [1] Well, I'm not an orphan sir. [2] Actually, I've got a guardian already. He's part of the SS]

"Sie müssen verwechselt werden. Ich bin Wehrmacht, nicht Shutzstaffel. Ich bin nirgends in der Nähe von den Standards des SS, wie ich deutlich und für mich selbst denken kann. Ich blöke "Sieg Heil, Sieg Heil" in Bewunderung für den Fuhrer nicht. Statt dessen diene ich für Deutschland und nur Deutschland."

He pushed up an eyebrow. This man was quite different from the others now, wasn't he? Others were brainwashed by the Fuhrer. He had to admit, he was brainwashed himself. He couldn't help but glance at the man again. It was pretty good that he served Germany and only Germany. Rarely anyone did that nowadays. Oliver nodded in respect and then glanced the opposite direction. "Es ist ziemlich sensationeller Herr. Nicht viele Menschen tun das hier. Ihr ganzer ... gerade SS soldaten." He sighed glancing down at the ground that filled itself with rainwater. "Ich finde jene Leute einer Gehirnwäsche untergezogen und dumm. Ich muss zugeben, ich werde ich selbst einer Gehirnwäsche untergezogen.." He glanced up at the man, deciding to give him an introduction. "Hallo, Oliver Von Trapp meines Namens. Und Sie?" He simply said. [Translations: [1] That's spectacular sir. Many others are just...SS soldiers. [2] I find those people brainwashed and stupid. I have to admit, I'm brainwashed myself. [3] Hi, my name's Oliver Von Trapp. And you?]

[heinz]

OOC: I accidentally didn't translate a piece of dialogue back to English, and Free translator sucks going from German to English...


The young vagabond began to laugh playfully. Heinz however, didn’t see it as such. It was a laugh of mockery once more, and each time the young boy giggled, it was like an arrowhead was shot through Heinz’s pride. Wagner was still angry and exasperated, yet still, he tried not to show it. Instead, he sighed and moved his hand to his forehead, wiping off some of the water which had accumulated on his forehead from the snow and rain mixture. Young children, Heinz said to himself, have no comprehension of the things that truly matter in life. They were too naïve and innocent. Pathetic, Heinz thought; one day, he will see the world for what it truly is-sordid and corrupt. Heinz knew, through years of experience, that people were indeed motivated by greed and pride. Heinz was guilty of it himself. Not even children were exempt from those two evils. They often times fight with their counterparts over such issues. Though in adulthood, Heinz thought, men aren’t nearly as querimonious when dealing with such issues. They would take a Luger bullet to the head of their enemy rather than calling them a hurtful name or a smack to the head from a small, openhanded palm. Heinz was infuriated still by the young boys snickering, which had not ceased since he went on his train of thought, and Heinz snapped, saying with a rancorous tone “Sie können fortsetzen, über mich, Sie naiver, dummer Junge zu lachen. Es belästigt mich nicht. Ich habe Dinge in diesem Leben gesehen, das Sie nicht sogar ausloten können. Sagen Sie mir, Jungen, haben Sie das durch eine Anti Luftpistole verjagtes Bein Ihres besten Freunds gesehen?” It was a rhetorical question. Of course, Heinz knew the young boy had never seen something like that. Heinz continued on his tangent, saying “Haben Sie Ihren besten Freund gesehen sterben, durch Tausende von winzigen Metallbruchstücken gepfeffert, nachdem eine Handgranate eines Tommys abging? Haben Sie Ihre eigene Mutter gesehen dem Kummer erliegen, weil ihr Vater im Großen Krieg starb? Lachen Sie über mich Junge nicht, Sie wissen nichts über mich, noch den Schmerz, den ich erlitten habe. Bis Sie Tod im Auge starren und weggehen, können Sie nicht über mich lachen.”

The boy then informed Heinz that he had a guardian, who was indeed an SS man. Heinz laughed, not because the boy was being tended to by an SS man, but because this so called guardian was nowhere in sight? What kind of responsible person would leave a kid alone in public, especially in 1944 Germany? Hell, Heinz was uncomfortable walking the streets at night by himself, and he was a soldier! That’s why he carried around his combat knife, always ready to tear into some form of vigilante. Heinz, still laughing, asked the boy, saying, though in a not very serious tone “Erzählen Sie mir, Jungen, welcher Wächter sein Kind die Straßen Deutschlands ohne irgendwelche Form der Leitung wandern lässt? Was zum Teufel die Art des Wächters solch eine Sache machen würde?” Heinz held up the palm of his hand to the boy, cutting off the boy’s answer. He continued to laugh, saying “Antworten Sie darauf nicht. Ein SS Mann würde sicher sein, das zu tun. Sie sind zu unterwürfig, um irgendwelche gottverdammten normalen Aufgaben zu wissen. Alles, was sie wissen, ist Adolph Hitler. Sie würden im Leben ohne Adolph Hitler verloren. Junge, es würde besser sein, wenn Sie eine Vagabundenwaise wären.”

Heinz didn’t feel the need to address the next sentence from the boy, where he stated that he too, was brainwashed. That fact was obvious. After all, he was living with an SS man. The boy did ask, however, for Heinz’s name. Heinz obliged on that part, saying “Heinz Wagner, aber Sie beziehen sich auf mich als Hauptman Wagner.”


Translations
-Sie können fortsetzen, über mich, Sie naiver, dummer Junge zu lachen. Es belästigt mich nicht. Ich habe Dinge in diesem Leben gesehen, das Sie nicht sogar ausloten können. Sagen Sie mir, Jungen, haben Sie das durch eine Anti Luftpistole verjagtes Bein Ihres besten Freunds gesehen?”

"You can continue to laugh at me, you naive, foolish boy. It does not bother me. I have seen things in this life which you even cannot fathom. Tell me boy, have you seen an Anti Air Gun blow off your best friend's leg?”


-Haben Sie Ihren besten Freund gesehen sterben, durch Tausende von winzigen Metallbruchstücken gepfeffert, nachdem eine Handgranate eines Tommys abging? Haben Sie Ihre eigene Mutter gesehen dem Kummer erliegen, weil ihr Vater im Großen Krieg starb? Lachen Sie über mich Junge nicht, Sie wissen nichts über mich, noch den Schmerz, den ich erlitten habe. Bis Sie Tod im Auge starren und weggehen, können Sie nicht über mich lachen.

"Have you seen your best friend die by being peppered by thousands of tiny metal fragments after a Tommy's grenade went off? Have you seen your own mother succumb to grief because her father died in the Great War? Do not laugh at me boy, you know nothing about me, nor the pain I have endured. Until you stare death in the eye and walk away, you cannot laugh at me. "



-Antworten Sie darauf nicht. Ein SS Mann würde sicher sein, das zu tun. Sie sind zu unterwürfig, um irgendwelche gottverdammten normalen Aufgaben zu wissen. Alles, was sie wissen, ist Adolph Hitler. Sie würden im Leben ohne Adolph Hitler verloren. Junge, es würde besser sein, wenn Sie eine Vagabundenwaise wären.

"Don't answer that. An SS man would be sure to do that. They are too servile to know any goddamned normal tasks. All they know is Adolph Hitler. They would be lost in life if it weren't for Adolph Hitler. Boy, it would be better if you were a vagabond orphan."

-Heinz Wagner, aber Sie beziehen sich auf mich als Hauptman Wagner.

"Heinz Wagner, but you will refer to me as Hauptman Wagner."

[olivervontrapp]

Sie können fortsetzen, über mich, Sie naiver, dummer Junge zu lachen. Es belästigt mich nicht. Ich habe Dinge in diesem Leben gesehen, das Sie nicht sogar auslen können. Sagen Sie mir, Jungen, haben Sie das durch eine Anti Luftpistole verjagtes Bein Ihres besten Freunds gesehen?”

That was when the young boy had stayed quiet. The man was cold and cruel. He must've had gruel for breakfast that day or maybe he was always that cold and mean. He stopped with his little giggling and large amounts of foolish laughter and stared at the ground, trying to show lots of respect. "Schade, Herr." He muttered underneath his breath, gulping. God knows what the man would do to Oliver if he continued to laugh. He may rip off his head and feed it to one of his dogs or maybe the man wasn't that horrid. He pulled his hand over his mouth to stop himself from giggling foolishly, although, when the man mentioned the leg. He stopped, paused, and quickly shook his head in regret. "Nein, herr." [Translations: [1] Sorry, sir. [2] No, sir.]

"Have you seen your best friend die by being peppered by thousands of tiny metal fragments after a Tommy's grenade went off? Have you seen your own mother succumb to grief because her father died in the Great War? Do not laugh at me boy, you know nothing about me, nor the pain I have endured. Until you stare death in the eye and walk away, you cannot laugh at me.

The young boy continued to shake his head with fright. The man scared him and the words the man was saying were the truth. It wasn't the time to be laughing his head off over something that was ever so foolish. It was simply the time to be serious. He stopped laughing and glanced up watching the rain tumble to the ground coldly. He had never seen death so he was wrong. Although he had seen his parents being tortured, so that must've been an excuse. "Meine Eltern wurden wegen Schwierigkeiten weggenommen, denen ich mag nicht empfehlen.." He simply said. [Translations: My parents were taken away due to troubles I wish not to commend to.]

"Erzählen Sie mir, Jungen, welcher Wächter sein Kind die Straßen Deutschlands ohne irgendwelche Form der Leitung wandern lässt? Was zum Teufel die Art des Wächters solch eine Sache machen würde?”

And with those words said, the young boy pushed himself off of the bench wiping the dirt from his shorts. He had simply had enough with the man's comments. They were growing crueler and crueler. Why was he being so mean? Oliver merely said anything that was offending. He sat back down, he wanted to say something, although the man stopped him by placing his hand over Oliver's mouth. He knew best to not reply. Even the man told him not to reply. Fine, he thought.

"Heinz Wagner, but you will refer to me as Hauptman Wagner."

Oliver decided to keep a respectful side towards the man. He didn't want him to lose his temper. Oliver simply nodded in reply. "Hauptman Wagner," He desperatly wanted to change the subject. "Ich wusste nie, dass Leben so hart und kalt sein konnte. Ich bin noch ungefähr zehn Jahre alt, und ich habe Leben daran nicht gesehen das ist noch, so Es tut mir leid, dass am vollsten, um respektlos zu sein." He sighed glancing the other way around. "Deutschland selbst wächst in ein Land von Albträumen hinein." He hoped Hauptman Wagner didn't take these words as an offence. [Translations: I never knew life could be so hard and cold. I'm still about ten years old and I haven't seen life at it's fullest yet, so I'm sorry for being disrespectful. [2] Germany itself is growing into a land of nightmares.]

[heinz]

The boy’s demeanor changed soon, from impetuous and naïve to sullen, and calm. The boy finally treated Heinz with respect, and for once, Heinz could feel comfort in the fact that his integrity was not being impugned by some boy who had not felt death, destruction, or torment. The boy did think about getting up and leaving, Heinz saw this by the apprehension in his blue, Aryan eyes. Heinz only gave a slight nod of acknowledgement to that fact. He crossed his injured leg over his right leg and crossed his arms as the rain continued to fall.

Then, Oliver said something that shed new light on himself to Heinz. His parents were taken away. Heinz heard this, and he tilted his head downward, knowing full well what most likely happened to them. He muttered to himself, saying in a sullen tone the word “Einsatzgruppen.” Heinz figured his parents were tortured and murdered. After all, he had heard too many stories like this one, especially from Poland. His brigade was one of many under the control of Fedor Von Bock, who commanded Army Group North. Though he did not witness anything, he heard stories of atrocities carried out by both the Gestapo and the Einsatzgruppen. In some cases, whole towns were wiped out in mass murders. The SS, in Heinz’s mind, sunk to new levels after what Oliver had told him. Himmler most likely killed his parents, and for what? The Glory and Supremacy of the Reich? Bullshit. All complete and utter bullshit, Heinz thought. Heinz’s body contorted in the bench as he thought of the pain and anguish Oliver’s family went through. It was much too similar to the pain and agony Heinz had felt at the hands of the British at El Alamein. It was much too similar to the pain Heinz had felt when his father was brutally killed by a mortar shell during the Great War. It was much too similar to all the anguish Heinz had endured in his life. The German Hauptman felt remorse for his words, and he spoke to the boy solemnly, saying quietly so no one could hear. “Es tut mir leid, dass, Oliver. Nicht nur für Ihre Eltern aber für alles habe ich gesagt. Sie haben meinen Schmerz erlitten; Sie haben sich in mein Leiden geteilt. Das ist viel sicher. Bleiben Sie das SS Bastard eines Wächters fern, den Sie haben, er ist die Ursache von all diesem. Wenn, was Sie sagen, wahr ist, wurden Ihre Eltern von einer Gruppe genommen, die unter der Kontrolle des SS ist. Alles, was mit ihnen geschah, war wegen des SS.”

Heinz balled his hand into a fist, knowing full well the grief these words brought upon poor Oliver, but they were the truth. Truth was cold and painful, but it had to be said. The truth had to set Oliver free from what he was indoctrinated to hear. He spoke again to Oliver, with a sense of urgency, all the while though, he did it in a whisper, saying “Sprechen Sie von nichts, dass ich gerade gesprochen habe. Es ist von der am meisten äußersten Geheimhaltung. Der SS führt alles, dass wir in Deutschland wissen. Wenn sie auf meinen bitteren Hass zu ihnen für ihre Bestechung lernen, werde ich gerade wie Ihre Eltern genommen. Seien Sie gegenüber dem SS, Oliver nicht loyal, nach Deutschland loyal.”

Heinz looked down at his watch. The hour was late and light would soon become darkness. Heinz dreaded the fact that this boy had to go to some home with an SS officer. Whatever this building Oliver had been staying in was not a home. No, a home was a place of comfort and love. Oliver was staying in a den; a lion’s den of corruption and thieves. Heinz could not bear to see a young boy turn into one of them, so he made an offer, he hoped the young boy could not refuse, saying “Die Stunde wächst spät, Oliver. Sie sollten nicht hier besonders in diesem Wetter aus sein. Bitte, nachhause gekommen mit mir für jetzt. Ich habe ein Extrabett, das ich nicht verwende. Ich will Sie um den SS nicht, sie sind schreckliche Leute. In Anwesenheit von einem von ihnen zu sein, ist schlechter als das Leben von den Straßen als ein Landstreicher. Vermeiden Sie sie um jeden Preis. Bitte, Oliver, kommt mit mir nachhause. Sie werden finden, dass mein Haus viel wärmer und gastfreundlich ist als jemand vom Shutzstaffel.” Heinz then extended his hand, saying warmly, “Nehmen Sie bitte meine Hand.”


Translations


Es tut mir leid, dass, Oliver. Nicht nur für Ihre Eltern aber für alles habe ich gesagt. Sie haben meinen Schmerz erlitten; Sie haben sich in mein Leiden geteilt. Das ist viel sicher. Bleiben Sie das SS Bastard eines Wächters fern, den Sie haben, er ist die Ursache von all diesem. Wenn, was Sie sagen, wahr ist, wurden Ihre Eltern von einer Gruppe genommen, die unter der Kontrolle des SS ist. Alles, was mit ihnen geschah, war wegen des SS.

-I am sorry, Oliver. Not just for your parents, but for everything I have said. You have endured my pain; you have shared in my suffering. That much is for certain. Stay away from that SS bastard of a guardian you have, he is the cause of all of this. If what you say is true, your parents were taken by a group which is under the control of the SS. Everything that happened to them was because of the SS.

Sprechen Sie von nichts, dass ich gerade gesprochen habe. Es ist von der am meisten äußersten Geheimhaltung. Der SS führt alles, dass wir in Deutschland wissen. Wenn sie auf meinen bitteren Hass zu ihnen für ihre Bestechung lernen, werde ich gerade wie Ihre Eltern genommen. Seien Sie gegenüber dem SS, Oliver nicht loyal, nach Deutschland loyal.

"Do not speak of anything I have just spoken. It is of the utmost secrecy. The SS runs everything we know in Germany. If they learn of my bitter hatred toward them for their corruption, I will be taken, just like your parents. Do not be loyal to the SS, Oliver, be loyal to Germany. "

Die Stunde wächst spät, Oliver. Sie sollten nicht hier besonders in diesem Wetter aus sein. Bitte, nachhause gekommen mit mir für jetzt. Ich habe ein Extrabett, das ich nicht verwende. Ich will Sie um den SS nicht, sie sind schreckliche Leute. In Anwesenheit von einem von ihnen zu sein, ist schlechter als das Leben von den Straßen als ein Landstreicher. Vermeiden Sie sie um jeden Preis. Bitte, Oliver, kommt mit mir nachhause. Sie werden finden, dass mein Haus viel wärmer und gastfreundlich ist als jemand vom Shutzstaffel.

-The hour grows late, Oliver. You shouldn't be out here, especially in this weather. Please, come home with me for now. I have an extra bed that I am not using. I do not want you around the SS, they are terrible people. Being in the presence of one of them is worse than living on the streets as a Vagabond. Avoid them at all costs. Please, Oliver, come home with me. You will find my home is much more warm and hospitable than someone from the Shutzstaffel.

-Nehmen Sie bitte meine Hand.

Please, take my hand

[olivervontrapp]

Es tut mir leid, dass, Oliver. Nicht nur für Ihre Eltern aber für alles habe ich gesagt. Sie haben meinen Schmerz erlitten; Sie haben sich in mein Leiden geteilt. Das ist viel sicher. Bleiben Sie das SS Bastard eines Wächters fern, den Sie haben, er ist die Ursache von all diesem. Wenn, was Sie sagen, wahr ist, wurden Ihre Eltern von einer Gruppe genommen, die unter der Kontrolle des SS ist. Alles, was mit ihnen geschah, war wegen des SS.

Yes, Oliver had endured lots of pain in his pastime but not as much as the man. What SS bastard? Herr Strumfelder? He wasn't a bastard, he was quite pleasant to be around with actually. He glanced down, he had decided to keep quiet for a few seconds. He did his best to zip up his mouth in front of Hauptmann Wagner. He didn't want to portray himself as a disrespectful young Aryan boy. He was a good little boy around the age of ten in which whom respected his elders with great defiance. He just plainly nodded towards the man. He had nothing to say.

Sprechen Sie von nichts, dass ich gerade gesprochen habe. Es ist von der am meisten äußersten Geheimhaltung. Der SS führt alles, dass wir in Deutschland wissen. Wenn sie auf meinen bitteren Hass zu ihnen für ihre Bestechung lernen, werde ich gerade wie Ihre Eltern genommen. Seien Sie gegenüber dem SS, Oliver nicht loyal, nach Deutschland loyal.

Loyal to Germany and not to the Third Reich? Was it just Oliver or was this man different. Yes, he was a good soldier, unlike the Nazis, but he was also taught that the Nazis were good as well. They did many things for the country. They saved many good people from deaths and torments. He sighed, brushing a few raindrops off of his shoulder pad. Germany was where had been brought up in. It was his fatherland, yet Austria was too, but he didn't really mention Austria and neither did his parents. "Ich glaube, dass ich keine Wahl, Herrn habe. Ich will nach Deutschland loyal sein, und noch muss ich gegenüber dem Reich loyal sein." [Translations: I believe I have no choice, sir. I want to be loyal to Germany and yet I need to be loyal to the Reich.]


Die Stunde wächst spät, Oliver. Sie sollten nicht hier besonders in diesem Wetter aus sein. Bitte, nachhause gekommen mit mir für jetzt. Ich habe ein Extrabett, das ich nicht verwende. Ich will Sie um den SS nicht, sie sind schreckliche Leute. In Anwesenheit von einem von ihnen zu sein, ist schlechter als das Leben von den Straßen als ein Landstreicher. Vermeiden Sie sie um jeden Preis. Bitte, Oliver, kommt mit mir nachhause. Sie werden finden, dass mein Haus viel wärmer und gastfreundlich ist als jemand vom Shutzstaffel.

Oliver couldn't help but notice the man's gestures and movements. It was true, actually he was true, Oliver couldn't stay on the streets of Berlin. It was dangerous. Very dangerous. People could kidnap him, especially those cold soldiers that travelled along the streets of Berlin day and night. Although, when the man had offered Oliver to accompany him, he was a bit too shy and afraid to speak of the word 'no'. He couldn't just let the man down like that. He couldn't let himself down like that. He had no choice. "Danke, herr." He spoke with a mutter, got himself up and connected hands with Hauptmann Wagner. Off they went, hand in hand and Oliver tried to support the man by walking a little bit slower.

[Daniel Brennan]

Mod Post

CP:
Oliver von Trapp: 11CP

Hauptman Wagner: 11CP


~Dan