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Rated: GC · Chapter · War · #2248675
The last days of the air war over Germany throught the eyes of a young Luftwaffe Pilot
I.

21 October 1943
______________________________________________________

"Herr Leutnant, your paperwork." The Stabsfeldwebel behind the desk smiled as he saluted smartly and handed me a stack of papers. I thanked him, acknowleding him and noting that I felt slight recognition towards him. "I hope your flight is a pleasant one, Herr Leutnant." His smile touched both corners of his face, and I tried to run through all the faces in my head that I had seen in the last year of training. Instructors, aquaintances, classmates....Then it hit me. I smiled back, noticing the silence was becoming awkward as he waited on my response.
"Thank you.....Falk is it?" His face instantly lit up with delight and surprise.
"Yes! It's been a while, Egon....I mean..." In his enthusiasm he recognized his slip. His face tightened apprehensively.
"Don't worry, I've had quite a time getting used to being called sir myself." I answered with a wink. His smile returned.
"I heard the champagne flowed like the River Elbe at the festivities last week." Falk's face pinched a little, but I could tell it wasn't because of jealousy. Hans Falk had entered cadet training with me months earlier, and he had wanted it as bad as anyone. However, he had been unable to escape the wrath of Oberleutnant Beckenbauer after he'd failed to keep up with his studies. Classroom lectures and tests all day followed by studying relentlessly and four hours of sleep before waking up to do it all over again took thier toll. Falk only made it a month, not even a chance to sit in the cockpit for the first time. I knew he was a good man, I'd always been a fair judge of character, and I couldn't help but sympathize with him. His desire to be a pilot had simply overridden his capacity to perform the job. It had happened to plenty of other men along the way. Now, here he was piloting a desk instead of a Messerschmitt. I opened my mouth to answer him, trying very hard to be concious of the way I worded things so as to steer away from the subject.
"We celebrated the end very vigorously I can assure you. I'm looking forward to sleeping in again. I haven't seen my family for six months, and my brother in almost a year."
"A welcomed rest, I'm sure. Where is it your brother is now? Still flying the heavy fighters?"
"Yes, still with ZG 76. Somewhere on the Baltic last he wrote me. They've seen some moderate action. I can't wait to hear about it in person."
My brother, Ernst. My hero since the day I was born.
He had risen to the rank of Hauptman last month, and it hadn't surprised me that he had been appointed kapitan of his staffel a short time later. He had been awarded the Iron Cross Second Class in 1942, Iron Cross First Class earlier this year and had just tallied his eleventh kill. The last letter I'd gotten from him had been full of as many details as possible without sparking the censors. He and his backseat gunner, Gunther Stiller were one of the most succesful of the Zerstorer crews. He had been shot down once, a story which he had just related to me in his last letter. A British Spit had managed to land some critical hits to his rear control surfaces, and rather than bail out over the freezing sea he elected to attempt to land at the nearest friendly airfield. After a few unnerving minutes of an erratic descent they'd made it in but landed hard. He was going to be arriving back home about the same time I was, and we'd all have a short day and night together with our mother and his wife and baby, Delia and Theodor, before going back to the front.
"How is your family, Hans? Did you finally marry Lena?" Falk's cheeks turned red, and he smiled bashfully.
"Just this past month."
"Perhaps next time we meet we can celebrate with a beer, as it is now I'm late." I answered, picking up my lone bag. "Until next time, Hans."
"Auf Wiedersehen, Egon." We exchanged handshakes and I was off to find my "Aunt Ju", an ancient looking elephant of an airplane that would take me slowly yet surely home. The anticipation was almost unbearable.
Nine months ago I could hardly wait to leave for my training, now I found myself eager for the familiar feel of home. Upon my graduation from Vienna-Schwechat Jaegerschule just a week ago I had been shipped back to Berlin to await assignment to a fighter group. However, I had managed to snag an elusive week's leave while I waited. Word had it from an undisclosed source that I was headed for the Eastern Front to fight the Soviets with the Greenhearts, one of the collectively highest scoring units in the Luftwaffe with many decorated pilots.
I was anxious to fulfill my lifelong dream, but first things first. There was a reason for Ernst and I to both synchronize our leaves. Neither of us could rest easy until our family was safe and sound. They were to move out to a house in the country. It was the only way we could be sure of thier safety, and after the last bombing raid on October 2, Ernst and I had insisted on it. The growing danger of the bombing raids had made it a risk to live in the cities. Mother had worked out the details a few days after the last bombing, and it was agreed upon that our old and dear friend, Klaus Mueller's family would be going too. They had all pooled thier money and with the help of mine and Ernst's had found a nice place twenty miles from Kassel that had sustained a sheep farm for the previous owners.
I boarded the trimotored JU-52 transport shortly after noon bound for Erfurt, where I would then have to hitch a ride into Kassel. As the "Aunt Ju" lumbered off the runway, I watched the ground rush by out the window, thinking of how I'd done the same thing several years ago as I flew with my brother in his twin-engined destroyer for the first time. It was where things had all began. I propped my elbow up on the sill, and as I rested my chin in my palm I felt my eyelids dropping like they were weights. Weeks of sleep deprivation were taking thier toll, and the subtle vibration and humming of the engines persuaded me into a light sleep...
I dozed and I drifted....My surroundings seemed to change with one fluid motion, and my subconcsious mind was gliding backwards in time....

...I was a week from turning fifteen, and my best friend, Klaus Mueller and I were going to see a picture show and then wander around Kassel, at least that's the story I told my mother. By the time I hitched a ride to Stormede it was late in the morning, and I was so excited I didn't care that I had to ride on the back of a truck with chickens and hay. My mind was racing with a million thoughts as we neared the airfield, and I stood up on the back of the truck when I caught sight of the tails of aircraft in the distance. I'd never seen an airplane up close, and I felt my heart speed up with anticipation. The farmer drove me as close as he could to the flight line, and I hopped off the back of the truck, thanking him hastily as I broke into a dead run towards the aircraft. As I got closer I saw a row of four twin engined planes line abreast on the grass, with various men in black overalls toiling over some of them. Directly facing them was another row of twelve single engined fighters with yellow painted noses. I shaded my eyes to see if any of the men looked like Ernst. That's when I saw a figure about his size and stature waving towards me.
"Egon! Is that you?" He yelled, beckoning me to come his way. I waved back and started up my run again until he met me with a hug like a bear. Ernst patted my back vigorously and then put me at arms length. He grinned wide as he looked me over. He was twenty one that summer, and he looked every bit his age. His eyes were smiling, and he seemed even more full of life than the day he had left over a year ago. He wore a leather flight jacket and a small flyer's cap cocked a little to the side. He put his arm around my shoulders. "I see you got my letter. Come over this way, I have a lot to show you."
The Messerschmitt BF110 "Zerstorer" was a beautiful airplane. Of course I had no basis for comparison on this particular day since this was my first view of one up close. Still, it was the most magnificent thing I'd ever seen. Ernst walked me up to his and as I stood looking up at the twin engined monster he laughed at my wonder. I ran my hand over the cold metal of the 13mm canon jutting out of the wing, adding a fierceness to the elegance of the curves of the wings.
"Just a couple of hits from that thing can blow an airplane apart. She's really made for ground attack though." He said crossing his arms and rocking back on the balls of his feet. My mouth must've dropped open because he laughed heartily again. "Quite a machine, eh?" I only nodded, running my hand over the metal plate of the cowling where "Delia" was painted in red cursive letters. "Is that all you're going to do? Gawk like a schoolboy at a pretty girl?" Ernst teased, leaning on one of the propellers.
"She cruises at about 300 kph." He began as if cued to spout specifications of the aircraft, what it could do, its strengths, it's weaknesses. "Go ahead and have a look inside." He pointed to the root of the wing where it joined the fuselage. "Step right up there." I did as he said, and peered into the open canopy of the pilot's seat. The assortment of gauges and switches boggled my mind. "Go ahead and have a sit." I turned to him in silent amazement, He nodded. I wasted no time dropping down into the small compartment. It was a tight fit, with no room for moving around. Ernst chuckled quietly, murmuring something about me talking his head off.
"This here, this shows your airspeed, this one shows you how how high you are, this one tells you if your wheels are up or down, this fires your forward guns...." I absorbed it all like a sponge. "...And back here..." He pointed to the compartment behind me. "...This is where your rear gunner sits. He has an MG 131 machine gun and makes sure nobody sneaks up behind you, and if they do..." He made a slashing motion across his neck and grimaced. I turned back towards the front glass and squinted into the gunsight. "How would you like to take a ride later?." All I could do is nod eagerly. I could hardly wait.
Ernst took me into an open room with a number of men sitting around a table engrossed in a card game. A radio on a shelf was buzzing with an excited newsman talking politics. This was the staffel's "waiting room", where pilots took it easy while awaiting briefing and orders. Ernst introduced me jokingly as his older brother, "Der Alte", "The Old Man". He stood in the middle of them all, telling tall tales and jokes that made them all double over in laughter. I had always been in awe of his ability to charm people. No matter where he went he always seemed to be the center of attention. He possessed an electric charisma that drew people to him. I always pictured him being a general, giving speeches to troops that moved them into battle with patriotism, bravery and self-sacrifice. Well suited as he was to that job, sometimes I wondered why he chose the solitude of a fighter pilot's cockpit. He introduced me to Luetnant Lothar von Furstenberg, who had been in since 1937. Lothar proceeded to tell me the story of kills he had aquired while he was a member of the Legion Condor while serving in the Spanish Civil War, with embellishment I'm sure. By the time the afternoon sun was beginning to sink lower on the horizon, members of the group began to disperse, preparing for a night on the town in Kassel. It was then that Ernst saw our opportunity. He aquired the flight cap and leather flight jacket of his rear gunner and told him to disappear for a while. We shuffled out towards the flight line and I hurried into the jacket. Ernst removed the chocks from the wheels as he motioned me into the rear gunner's position. I strapped on the flight helmet and sunk down into the seat. I took hold of the rear facing gun and picked out some imaginary targets. I squenched one eye shut and drew a bead on a bird crossing the sky...Ernst hopped up onto the wing and leaned inside, pulling the harness over my shoulders and showing me how to snap it secure. He descended into his seat in front of me and began fumbling with some of the switches. I saw the tail fins move side to side, and then the whole aircraft shuddered as the propellers of one engine then the other roared to life. Ernst throttled up the engines and the tail began to swivel around as the plane lurched forward. Within a few short minutes we were taxiing onto the grass field and he ran the engines up one time to almost full power. The plane strained against the brakes. He turned back towards me, the ever present grin still on his face.
"Are you ready?" I could muster no more than a nod. I had never been more ready for anything in my life...

..."Herr Leutnant?" An unfamiliar voice cut into the scene, and my surroundings began to liquify again, rushing by and then dark. "Herr Leutnant?" The voice offered again, this time accompanied by a gentle rocking of my shoulder. I suddenly became aware I was in the present again. I opened my eyes slowly, stemming the ache from the sudden bright sunlight warming my face through the window. Instead of blue and fluffy white there was grass and pavement. I turned to the youthful face of a Hauptgefrieter hunched down next to me, and realized that we must have landed. "Herr Leutnant, we have arrived in Erfurt." He said, noticing I was now fully awake.
It took what seemed like hours to disembark, and I fought the urge to push everyone out of the way to get to the door. I rushed through the airport quickly, searching each face but seeing none that were familiar. I checked my watch. The time was right. I set my bag down beside a mortared block wall, an advertising poster plastered to it firmly. On the poster a menacing stormtrooper peers proudly skyward, gripping a machine gun to his breast. "Volunteer for the Waffen-SS" scripted in black gothic lettering dominates the bottom half of the poster, and underneath that in a smaller script reads "My Honor is Loyalty." I almost scoffed openly at the spectacle, but I thought better of it. It made me think briefly of my father, and I reached into my pocket for the cigarette case that had once belonged to him. It's shiny gold face and silver braided trim shimmered, reflecting the light from the large windows. I popped it open with a snap and removed a cigarette, reading the inscription as I always did:

To My Comrade
E. W. S.
I am forever endebted from this Day Forward.
5-15-17
The meaning of the inscription had its roots in The Great War, but of what incident it spoke was something my father never revealed. I was too young to be as truly interested as I should have been when he was alive. I was more interested in prodding him to tell stories of flying with Manfred von Richthofen, "The Red Baron", and Ernst Udet, dueling French Spads in his Fokker triplane. These types of tales he told with great enthusiasm. His eyes looked past me as if he were strapped into his Fokker once again, waiting for a Spad to bounce him from the sun at any moment.
As I thought of him and his stories I smiled, but pursed my lips as I thought of what he said to me the week before he died. Hitler had come to power a few years before, and he was not an ardent supporter.
He'd told us one night "I did not fight in The Great War to see my sons killed in the next one by a power hungry bastard." I had no idea what he was talking about at the time, but he saw the signs early enough. He knew what was coming. God, how I missed him...

"Egon." A voice from my right said as I turned simultaneously. I saw a familiar smirk on Ernst's face as we shook hands and embraced. I smiled as we stood at arms length.
"Ernst." Was all I managed to say as he shook his head.
"We'll have to be more talkative when we get home or else Momma will think there is something wrong with us." He produced a match and lit the cigarette which still hung loosely in my mouth. He looked my uniform over briskly. "Look at you. Papa would be proud...Although, you know the training is considerably easier than it was when I was there, and the admission requirements are quite lax now I hear.." There was a twinkle in Ernst's eye, the one he always got when he was trying to prod a reaction to his teasing. "I suppose I won't hold that against you though."
"I see you haven't changed in the hundred years since I've seen you." I said wryly, eyeing him from under the brim of my cap.
"..Remember, I still outrank you, old man." Ernst wagged his finger at me and smiled broadly, producing a cigarette for himself from his pocket which he promptly lit.
"Herr Hauptman Schroeder." I said as an overexaggerated click of my heels and a sloppy salute had Ernst shaking his head at me. "A bottle of your choice favorite." I revealed a small bottle of Lothar von Furstenberg's cinnamon schnapp's that was hidden in my bag. "It was the last bottle in Berlin, and I trust it will keep me in your good graces?"
"How in the world did you ever get hold of that?" Ernst said, his eyes widened.
"I stole it from Hitler's cellar when he wasn't looking." I winked. Ernst laughed.
"Not that the bastard will miss it. Well it looks like we'll be occupied on the train now, speaking of which we better move before we miss it." We picked up our bags and left the paper stormtrooper on the wall where we had found him.
We were able to land two tickets on the last train of the evening into Kassel, and once we had settled into our seats we both began to fidget with our things in anticipation. It wouldn't be long now.
"Before I forget..." Ernst said as soon as we were seated, turning to pull something from his bag. He tossed an object towards me, and it landed in my lap heavily with a clop. It was a small brown book, embossed with the golden letters "The Stories of Johann von Goethe" in fancy gothic font. "Are you still as much of a bookhound as you used to be?"
"Of course. I'm glad to have some lighter material. I've had enough of aerodynamics and military law."
"I don't know if Goethe is what you'd call light reading, but I thought it would suit your tastes. With you it's either books or sheet music." Ernst answered.
"You know me too well."
"Where in the hell did you run into Lothar? I haven't seen him in over a year. I was beginning to wonder if the Russians were using him for target practice." Ernst asked suddenly after he had stowed his bag. "...And speaking of the devil, let's have some of that schnapps."
"I saw him in Berlin getting the Knight's Cross. Spent some time in the Mediterranean with JG 26." I answered, checking to see that no one was coming up the aisle. I popped the cork as quietly as I could.
"Knight's Cross, eh? That will make a nice addition to his Spanish Cross and his Iron Crosses and his Wound Badge and his German Cross in Gold and his....." Ernst said, trailing off as if he were bored with the listing of awards. He took a swig from the bottle and handed it back.
"He was running out of space to hang them. He rattles like tin cans. I hear he's going to seek approval from Goering to hang his additional awards on his right." Ernst laughed.
"The old man makes a joke, even if it is only a Luftwaffe man's joke. How about that? I'm glad to be home, Egon."
"He's being promoted to Major and assigned to Home Defense." I added.
"He and I sure got into our fair share of messes back when we were in the same unit." Ernst's face softened as he turned back time in his mind.
"The details of which I'm sure I'd love to hear..." I prodded eagerly. Ernst only grinned.
"I'd never spoil your virgin ears with such filthy tales." I shook my head at him. "I can't wait to see Theodor." He said changing the subject quickly and pulling his cigarette case from his pocket.
"He's not so little anymore I'm sure." I answered as I took the cigarette Ernst held out to me. It was hard to tell what was smoking more, us or the train.
"I can't wait to get this war over with so I can get to the business of having a few more."
"Don't wish the war over so quickly, I want to at least shoot down one plane."
"You need to get you a girl and have one of your own and you'll see what I mean. I hear Hildegarde is still available." He said grinning widely. He loved to rib me about girls and watch my face turn red. He'd been doing it for years. Hildegard Weik had kissed me square on the mouth when we were five years old and sent me running home to hide from her under the table. It was an incident that it seemed I would never live down. Ernst grinned widely as he exhaled a perfect ring of smoke between his teeth. It rolled lazily forward until it disappeared into space.
"You'll never forget that one will you." I just rolled my eyes.
"What are brothers for?" He answered with a smile as he leaned his head back against the seat and closed his eyes.
"I'm glad you made it out of flight training, Egon. Now the fun begins." He said without looking up.
"There were times I had my doubts." I answered. A long silence ensued, and inevitably I rested my neck on the seat. Might as well get in a nap while I was able. This sleeping on demand was courtesy of my military training. I felt my eyelids lolling closed once more...

..."I will be like Boelke!"
"One hundred fifty one."
A chorus of two voices sang as we pushed our bodies upward under the weight of our parachutes. The rocks dug into my hands on the rough ground, and the muscles in my arms burned with exertion. We dropped back down in unison, and once again pushed upwards, repeating the chorus as enthusiastically as ordered.
"I will be like Boelke!"
"One hundred fifty two."
The way we appeared right now couldn't be further from what the great German ace, Oswald Boelke would have wanted to see. I wanted to beat the hell out of Willi Bergmann for getting me into this mess. Even more I wanted to be anywhere but underneath the glaring Oberluetnant Beckenbauer, who stood towering over us like a slave driver.
"I will be like Boelke!"
"One hundred fifty three."
Beckenbauer didn't speak a word other than to count out our misery each time we dropped to the dirt. It was more intimidating than if he'd screamed in our faces. I couldn't help but notice he had long since passed one hundred. He stood there fresh in his uniform, pressed impossibly perfect. All I could see was the fresh crease in his pants from my vantage point, and his boots that shone like glass in the sunlight. He had yet to break a sweat in the sweltering summer heat. Willi and I were perspiring like plowhorses.
"I will be like Boelke!"
"One hundred fifty four."
My arms were burning like fire, and I was waiting on them to collapse under me, bringing down further wrath on us.
"Stop." He said suddenly. Willi and I both collapsed to the ground, burying our bare chests in the dirt. "Now you will run twenty circuits of the airfield with parachute, helmet and rifle. When you are done you will report to me and we will discuss your transgressions further."
"Jawohl, Herr Oberluetnant." We answered in unison, jumped to our feet and turned on our heels and jogged towards the hangars. When we were safely around the back of one we stopped and rested our hands on our knees, blowing air like racehorses. I looked at Willi, contempt seething from my face. He looked up at me and grinned, his face suddenly turning green. After a few wretched dry heaves he vomited all over his shoes. I was just glad it wasn't mine.
"Serves you right, you bastard." We jogged into the hangar and retrieved Beckenbauer's favorite instruments of torture: A mauser rifle and a steel pot helmet. We began traversing the airfield in a wide circle, gripping our rifles with both hands in front of our chests, the parachutes slapping our backs with enthusiasm. With each step the vibration rang out under the steel helmet, rattling in my ears until they ached. My labored breaths were coming with every other step, and keeping them in synch became the focal point which I placed my concentration. This would be the last time I ever let Willi Bergmann talk me into doing barrel rolls over the airfield...

"Hey there, old man, are you dozing still?" I saw Willi Bergmann's face but heard Ernst's voice. Something shook my body, and suddenly the scene of the airfield was morphing into darkness. "Egon." At the sound of my name my eyes instinctually opened. There was Ernst, his hand on my shoulder. "We're here." I jumped up quickly, shouldering my bag and following him towards the front of the car. We were held up briefly by three Kriegsmarine officers and two smartly dressed Fallschirmjager troopers who had been our fellow passengers as they shuffled forward from thier compartments. Ernst suggested we stop for a beer to calm our nerves, as they began to show now that we were so close. We laughed at ourselves as our hands shook with nervous anticipation. We drank a beer a piece, threw a few darts and had a cigarette. Then it was time to go. We shouldered our bags once again and began the short trek across town.
Things hadn't appeared to have changed much. Thank God. There was no sign of the bombing in this area of the town, and Lowenberg Castle towered proudly over it all untouched by the destruction. People bustled about almost as cheerily as if nothing on the outside were awry. As we got closer I felt my nervous excitement building. We rounded the corner of Edenstrasse. Down the street children were playing and shopfronts were bustling. Clotheslines criss-crossed the street from upstairs apartment windows and happy voices floated on the breeze. We were greeted by every old familiar face that wasn't off at war, and every child ran up beside us and wanted to touch our pilot's badges and wear our hats. Near the end of the street, a familiar dwelling began to take shape in the evening dimness. We were home. I noticed Ernst shuffle his steps nervously. It was something uncharacteristic of him.
"Dear God, Egon, I've been away so long I don't even know what I'm going to say to her." He said, a slight smile creasing the corners of his mouth. I knew he would think of something. The last few steps passed in what seemed like a million years. Three knocks echoed against the wooden door, and I took a deep breath as I waited for the response. Footsteps soon clopped across the floor and the door opened slightly. The ferocity by which mother's arms embraced me almost knocked me backwards.
"My boys." Mother repeated several times. "It is the miracle I've been praying for. My boys together again." I saw no sign of Delia or Theodor, they had probably already gone to bed. Ernst stood leaning on the jamb, a wide smile crossing his face. "I could tan you both for not telling me you were coming!"
"We wanted it to be an early Christmas present for you." Ernst barely had time to finish his sentence before she was embracing him, and I watched, feeling rather proud of us for arranging the whole thing. He walked inside with her, his arm around her. There were tears in her eyes. In actuality, by Christmas we'd be God knew where, and very likely this would be the last visit home either of us got for the foreseable future.
"I'm so happy to have you home." She said, Ernst dabbing her cheeks with his handkerchief. "Wait until Delia....." Ernst put his finger to his lips.
"No, let me surprise her." Mother pointed to the closed bedroom door. He took off his cap and laid it on the back of the chair near the fireplace. He walked quietly to the door of the room where Delia slept and pushed it open. There were no lights on but I could see his shadow as he sat on the edge of the bed and leaned down close to her face. She turned over and stopped for a moment, making sure that it wasn't a dream, and then her arms were around him. Thier shadows combined into one as they held each other, until Ernst reached behind him and gently shut the door. Mother led me to the table, where she talked nonstop for upwards of an hour. When it became clear that Ernst and Delia would not emerge for the rest of the night, she made some strong tea and asked me to tell her all the stories from my months at training in Vienna. She retrived the postcard I mailed to her the first week I had arrived with a bust of Mozart on the front. His hometown of Salzburg was one of the places I visited once we were allowed weekend leave. Soon after she hurried off to make a bed for me, and fussed over this and that and how I looked like I needed my sleep. I couldn't argue with her there. I washed up in the basin by the dim lamplight, and hung my uniform carefully. I layed there for a good while afterwards, exhausted but unable to grasp the reality that I was home. On the table beside the bed was a likeness of my brother, Heinz, who was only a memory to me now. He looked young and hopeful in the photograph, a proud sailor in the Kriegsmarine assigned to the most powerful warship afloat. He was at the bottom of the sea with her and two thousand others. His death had nearly killed us all. Enough time had passed, however, to make the memory of him about the pleasant things and not the painful ones, but the loss of a brother never completely goes away. I set the picture back in its place, and took up my position staring at the ceiling once more. I thought about the old piano just on the other side of the door, the one I had worked for for months saving change in Herr von Abendroth's store. It needed tuning and four of the key hammers were broken, but it was mine. I wanted to play it now, just long enough to remember what it felt like to be sitting at my piano. I crept quietly into the cool darkness of the next room, feeling my way to the bench and hearing it creak as my weight rested on it. I ran my hands over the cool ivory keys and began to play softly Schubert's Sonata in A Minor. The melody flowed smoothly as my fingers fell into place almost involuntarily. I closed my eyes and let the music flow through me, letting my emotions rise and fall with each stroke of the keys. When the last note sounded I felt relaxed and contented, and even yawned as I felt my eyelids falling shut. Now I was satisfied that I was finally home.
The next morning I was awakened much too early by Mama bursting through the door and announcing breakfast was ready. Was I back on the airbase or was I at home? It was hard to tell. Today would be a day of relaxation, our last before bidding farewell to our childhood home of so many years and relocating the family to the country. Tomorrow the packing up would begin, and the next day the journey. After that it was back to the business of war. It wouldn't take too long, a few hours at the most, but the slow pace of Herr von Abendroth's two mares and wagon wouldn't speed up the process any. Still, it was very generous of him to donate his services, and in the letter I'd addressed to him a few weeks before about the matter he noted that he wished I'd consider returning to his store when the war was over. 'As you well know,' he wrote, 'I have no sons to continue on in my place when I am ready to hand the business down.' This was no half-hearted offer. Herr von Abendroth, as his name denoted, was descended from nobility, and although he wasn't as prestigious as some, he had the most well known general goods store in this part of Kassel. It was certainly something to consider once this whole mess was over with. Maybe I could even convince Ernst to take up the offer with me.
We spent the day picnicking and laughing as Theodor toddled around the gardens of Lowenburg Castle. Ernst and Delia lounged unabashedly in each other's arms, and every time Mama got up to chase Theodor back within sight they smiled and laughed openly. The relief of being reunited showed on thier faces, even though it was only temporary.
"Egon, was that you I heard last night giving a midnight performance?" Ernst teased. I smiled.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake any of you."
"I thought it was beautiful." Delia said, looking up at Ernst with a softened expression.
"Yes, you did." He answered, suddenly nuzzling her cheek and tightening his arms around her. They looked as if they were sharing some private joke known only to them.
"Egon, didn't you find a girlfriend to take your mind off your studies while you were away?" Delia asked suddenly. I felt heat rushing into my cheeks and just shook my head.
"I'd say beer and cigarettes did a fair job of that." I answered. She just smiled. I knew what she was thinking. "No, Delia."
"You're no fun, Egon."
"Who is she?"
"She's very nice. She lost her husband over a year ago. She reminds me so much of you." Delia's heart was in the right place, I couldn't blame her for that.
"I'm sure she's nice, but you know I'll be going away. This is a bad time to start a romance." It could be years before all this was over, but I didn't add that part.
"Well, I'm just worried about you, Egon. All work and no play. Who's going to take care of you when this is all over? Wars can't go on forever." Delia said sympathetically. I hated when people talked to me with sympathy in thier voice, but I knew she meant no harm by it.
"Yes, Egon, who will take care of you?" Ernst said playfully, mocking his wife, who promptly slapped his arm and they both laughed. He jumped up and wandered off in the direction of Mama and Theodor, who were barely in view near some hedges some distance away. I saw Delia watching him go out of the corner of my eye, and the look I saw on her face was one of longing and worry. She was trying for Ernst's sake to put up a strong front. It was no good to try it with me though. Ernst and Delia gave me all the reason I needed to know that a family of my own was something I didn't even want to consider until things were more certain.
When the sun started sinking we made our way back to Edenstrasse and our humble home to have some kraut and bratwurst. When mother went to retrieve the bratwurst she came back in the room furious. All that was left was half the string, with numerous bite marks and chunks removed from each. Something had gotten to them before us, that was obvious.
"I must go get some more. I can't have my boys starving." She repeated over and over. She had a one track mind when it came to her boys.
"I'll go with you, Mama." I offered but she shook her head.
"You stay here with your brother." Mama said, looking at Ernst who was already dozing on the chair nearest to us. "Delia and I will go. We need to pick up some last minute things for the journey tomorrow as it is. You two stay here and rest. We'll take Theodor with us."
"If you're sure." I said, as she nodded. Theodor toddled over to me and tugged on my pants leg. He giggled with delight as I tossed him up into the air and then caught him again. He reached for the brim of my hat and I transferred it from my head to his, laughing as it swallowed him down to the ears. Awakened slightly, Ernst took notice and smiled.
"Let me have the young Leutnant, before they're carrying him off to war with the both of you." Delia said as I returned my hat and handed him over. Ernst stood up and kissed her on the forehead, and he cradled his son's head with care as they turned to go. "Keep him out of trouble while we're gone, Egon." She said, looking back at Ernst and laughing as they went through the door. Mama followed behind.
"We'll be back in a couple of hours." Then they were gone. I looked at my wristwatch, it read 7:30 pm. The place they were going was a good walk from here, closer to the town center and the Martinsplatz. Brandes Engelbrecht's butcher shop was located in the ancient part of Kassel, with buildings of wood and plaster dating back to the middle ages. It was an enchanting place to be.
"Go on to bed, I'll wake you when they get back." I offered, seeing the puffiness under Ernst's tired eyes.
"I'll be ok until they get back." He said stubbornly, looking as if he would fall into a stupor at any moment.
"You stubborn ox." I said, half joking and half serious. He smiled.
"I'll get my sleep after we're back in the fight, old man. As long as I'm here I won't sleep a wink. I'm afraid I'll miss something."
"Since I'm being the old man again, I noticed that Wound Badge of yours. Apparantly you failed to mention it to me in your letters. Would you care to elaborate?" I had been awaiting the right moment to ask him about it, careful to make sure it was a rare time when Mama and Delia were nowhere around. The question brought reluctance from Ernst as I had expected.
"I didn't see the need in worrying anyone about it." He finally answered. "When we bellied in we hit the ground hard and I bounced my forehead off the instrument panel. A few stitches and a week out of commission, that was all. It was nothing to make a fuss over."
"Tell me one thing."
"Ask and it shall be told."
"What will it be like when I get in the fight?" My voice must have sounded entirely too eager. Ernst opened his eyes and looked at me for a moment, then he lit himself a cigarette, saying nothing. I waited. He dabbed away some ashes in the ashtray in front of us. I expected him to go into great detail of his kills, what it was like to be shot at, what it was like to watch an enemy's plane blow apart as you poured rounds into it. Instead he leaned back in his chair and was silent. His only response...
"You'll find out soon enough for yourself what it's like."
"I guess so." I answered. "I hope I'm ready."
"You'll do fine, Egon. " He answered confidently. He took another drag from the cigarette and then offered me one. "Hey, why don't you play something." His request caught me off guard. I'd been playing the piano for years, and never once had he asked me to play something. Most of the time he seemed to get his enjoyment out of heckling me while I practiced. "Hey play that tune that Delia always wants to hear...The one she likes so much."
"Which one? She likes several."
"I don't know the name...but it goes like this..." Ernst hummed the tune and I quickly recognized it. I had no idea he'd ever paid enough attention to it to even know the tune.
"Reverie." I answered. He smiled with recognition.
"If you say so. Will you play it?"
"Sure, if you promise to let me play it in peace." I said with a laugh.
"I promise. I won't make up words to it this time." I snuffed out my cigarette in the ashtray and walked over to the piano. The bench greeted me with a loud creak as usual as I sat my weight on it. I didn't need the sheet music, I had played the tune so much that I knew it by heart. It was one of my favorites. I put my fingers on the keys and began to play. I didn't miss a note. The soft sound filled the room, and Ernst pulled on his cigarette and propped his feet up on the chair opposite to him as he listened. It was a soothing sound, like a lullaby almost. Then, just as I began to lose myself in the melody, Ernst got a strange look on his face and dabbed out his cigarette quickly
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