July 8th, Saturday.

The streets of the city are crowded as people go back and forth on this hot sunny summer day. The summer farmers market is in town and many vendors, attempting to sell their produce, line the road next to the square. There must be dozens of hastily made booths, tarps are strung between the buildings that offer a bit of shade. Lieutenant Sprieg, in his well ironed officers uniform and I navigate the crowd to find the best produce. There are many vendor baskets that have a variety of: apples, corn, tomatoes, squash, okra, melons, carrots, potatoes, peppers and cabbage. One vendor sells live chickens in cages with accompanying eggs. Another booth sells homemade wine and meade in glass bottles. One vendor sells sweet smelling soaps, and a few perfumes. I thought of buying a perfume for Irina but I don't know what she would like. It's been weeks since we last saw each other. Our correspondence has grown from hope filled love letters to down right raunchy in which I would be embarrassed for Obrenski to read. Our plan is to rendezvous here at the market through meticulous planning. Only problem is that I can't shake the Lieutenant. I ,with basket in hand, follow him through the crowd as he inspects each individual booth, scouring them for healthy morsels for our diet back at the barracks. He has grown dissatisfied with the canned goods the army sends us. He says a healthy meal is the only way to improve fighting spirit. He then would remind me how he would run out of food in the desert and how a man from his detail ate a scorpion. This is an important mission for him, for he holds himself accountable for our well-being. I, on the other hand, keep a watchful eye scanning the crowd for Irina.

A small band of a trumpet, horn, flute and clarinet plays upbeat tunes for money that finds its way into an open trumpet case. We approach a vendor that sits under the shading tarps. The Lieutenant inspects the cucumbers sitting in baskets and several jars of pickles. The merchant greets us," There half off but only for an hour…. Say you're Odel Sprieg aren't you?" The Lieutenant replies simply,"I am." The man holds out his hand for a handshake saying,"It's an honor to meet you sir. I saw your picture in the paper." I am struck because the man only has one arm, the other is a fleshy stub. The Lieutenant shakes his hand and says,"Thank you." The merchant continues,"Take whatever you want, anything for a war hero." The Lieutenant utters,"Thank you but I insist on paying just like anyone else." as he slides the required reichsmarks across the table. "Franz." He says,"Get the pickles, Kurtz will like them." I am reminded of the funny memory of how Kurtz ate a whole jar of pickles only to throw them up after extensive labor. The man seems awestruck at the Lieutenant adamance to pay. I grab the jar of pickles and place them in the basket.

I follow the Lieutenant through the crowd to the next booth. I didn't notice it before but the crowd parts and stares, whispering to another as though they are in the presence of a celebrity. I never realized how well known he was. Is this why he never comes to town? We approach the next vendor, he thoroughly inspects the baskets of picked tomatoes and cabbages. An older man and a teenager man the booth and the older man says,"Lieutenant Sprieg, it's a pleasure to see you again." "Hello, Mr. Hampberg, it is a pleasure as well." he replies. The older man says,"Come these were freshly picked this morning. Say what brings you to town?" The Lieutenant replies,"I have errands that need my presence, but for now I am just attending the market like I did last year." The older man replies,"Well if you find anything you like, it's yours." The Lieutenant responds again,"Thank you Mr. Hampberg but that won't be necessary." The teenager suddenly blurts excitedly,"Is it true that you lead a prison break in the desert?!" The Lieutenant replies calmly," You will find the tales of my exploits to be exaggerated." "But are they true?" the teen asks. Lieutenant Sprieg sighs and answers simply,"Most of them." The older man slaps the teen about the back of the head and says,"Oskar, maybe he doesn't want to talk about it." The older man looks at the Lieutenant and says,"I know it must be hard being the sole survivor of your gun crew." The Lieutenant utters,"I will manage." I didn't know the Lieutenant was the only survivor of a gun crew of ten men. That must have been horrific to lose the men he fought with for so long.

Suddenly I hear my name being called. I look around trying to stick my head above the crowd. There I spot her! Its Irina! She waves her arm frantically to gain my attention in the alleyway. I find myself welling with excitement. I now think of a way to sneak off. "Sir?" I ask,"Should I go gather some corn?" he looks at me and says briefly,"You may go to her." He must have spotted her as well. I smile with joy, and am about to dash off to meet her before he stops me. "Franz, the basket." He says. I stop and hand it to him before racing off. I greet her in the alleyway. She smiles while wearing a dark green sundress and heels. Our emotions, we can no longer contain. We kiss aggressively as I press her into the brick alley wall. She only pauses briefly to say out of breath,"I…. I missed you… so much." She clings to me tightly and claws at my back. We don't care who is around us for we engage in ecstatic passion.

Suddenly a voice from down the alley say,"Would you get a look at these two!" We stop our passion and look to see down the alleyway, two uniformed teens aggressively storm toward us. Their gray uniform and shorts boast a display of swastika medallions. One is short and lean but the other is tall and muscular. They approach us and say,"What's a pretty girl like you doing with the likes of him?" Irina snaps back,"What's it to you?" The tall one now towers over me and says devilishly,"Maybe you would like to be with a real man?" They eye her with fiery lust filled intent. He suddenly pushes me causing me to stumble back. She shouts,"Hey knock it off!" The short one closes and grabs her wrist, she yelps and and kicks him straight in the groin. He doubles over in pain, the tall one shouts,"You bitch!" He storms to her but I jump in his way to block him. He swings his fist and punches me in the nose. I reel backward and stumble into Irina. My face burns and my nose dribbles blood. "Get him Franz!" Irina shouts. His partner retreats in pain leaving me and him to engage in combat alone. My heart beats aggressively, my nerves on edge and my body prepares for battle. He begins our brawl by giving a wide right swing. I step back to dodge and he misses. I press my opportunity and jab him in the stomach. He wretchs in pain, I obviously have knocked the wind out of him. I feel proud of my small victory but the fight is not over. He takes a fighting stance again. He swings again, this time upper cutting my chin. I reel back in burning pain and my jaw feels as though it is broken. I surprised I didn't shatter my teeth. I stumble but manage to balance myself. Irina shouts encouragements,"Come on Franz, you can do it!" I wipe the blood from my bloodied lip, and take an another fighting stance. "I'm going to beat your ass!" He shouts.

He suddenly charges me and tackles me to the ground. Hit sits atop of me and strikes me savagely. I cover my face with my arms in an attempt to block the blows. I feel so helpless, every inch of my face burns with pain. I struggle to free myself but it is hopeless, I have lost.

A man's voice arises from behind me," Gentleman! Enough of this!" It's Lieutenant Sprieg! My assailant stops his battery and they attempt to flee. The Lieutenant shouts,"Gentleman, you are to be at attention when an officer addresses you!" The freeze and turn around, they stay stiff bodied at attention. I rise and stand at attention. He walks slowly with arms folded behind him and asks,"What is the meaning for this violence?" Irina says,"Lieutenant they started it." "No we didn't!" the short one exclaims lying to hide their guilt. The Lieutenant snaps,"Did I address you private?" "Uh no sir." He shallows hard. "What unit are you in?" The Lieutenant demands. The tall one answers," Uh the 26th City Garrison sir." "This puts you under the command of Colonel Jodel Bachmeyer No?" They eye each other nevervously. "Answer me." demands the Lieutenant. "Uh er yes sir." The short one answers. "Gentleman, you know infighting is against the armies code of conduct?" The Lieutenant asks. "Uh yes sir." They reply. "Then you two should expect a punishment in a few day after I explain this to Colonel Bachmeyer." They look stunned. The short one snaps,"Sir they….." the Lieutenant interrupts them,"Would you prefer a court-martial? Or how about a deployment to the Eastern Front?" They both swallow hard as they hear of further consequences. The Lieutenant snaps,"Leave us, quickly before I change my mind." They take look at each other and take off down the alleyway. Irina blows a raspberry and I jeer at them. I am about to move when I am stopped by the Lieutenant,"Franz, I didn't release you yet." I stand stiff bodied at attention and swallow hard, this can't be good. He continues,"Franz, you know the rules about fighting." "But sir, they started…." He stops me,"Don't interrupt me. I don't care who started it, I had to bring an end to it." "But Lieutenant he is telling the truth, they tried to grab me." Irina says. The Lieutenant looks at her and says,"Is that so?" He looks at me and huffs,"Fine, but I don't need another soldier of my detail getting into anymore brawls. Obrenski gets into more than enough fights then what I can handle. I have a disciplinary record on him that is eight pages long. I don't need a record on you." I smile a bit thinking that I have cleared trouble. He rebukes me however,"Don't think that you are exempt from punishment, you were still fighting. You will be cleaning the barracks tonight alone." I sulk. "But sir..." Irina says. The Lieutenant interrupts her," I stand by what I said. Franz let's go." I feel anger, I didn't like our meeting being interrupted and I don't want to leave her. I haven't seen her in weeks. He looks at her and says," You may accompany us if you like. I still have much to do and Franz, I'm sure you would like the company." I smile and my heart flutters again with excitement. "Come on let's go." He says. I break attention and we follow.

Our small party navigates the crowd until the Lieutenant finds a suitable vendor and renews again his search for better rations. Irina and me follow close behind him and she occasionally will reach for my hand. As he examines there, unhusked yellow

corn with its light green leafy wrappings, Irina asks, “So Lieutenant Sprieg, is it true what they say about you?” “Like what dear?” he asks in reply as he inspects the corn for imperfections. She asks,” Is it true about what you did in Africa.” The Lieutenant motions for me to grab the corn before replying, “I will tell you since you asked.” He continues,” I was in charge of a Flak 88 gun and its crew of men. Men that I had known for years, we had trained together. We were ordered to guard this road that exited what was called the Kasserine Pass. This was not long after the Americans landed in North Africa, you see. The Americans made their way up the pass and into our trap. We beat them back on the first day. The next day they came in force, we destroyed many of their tanks but there was far too many of them. They overwhelmed our position and….” He freezes deep in thought. Irina, who was listening intently, asks, “What happened?” The Lieutenant shakes off his shock and replies, “I prefer not to talk about it.”

Irina asks concerned, “Are you alright Lieutenant?” he answers, “Yes dear, I am fine.” She looks at me worried and whispers, “Was it something I said?” I whisper in reply, “He doesn’t like to talk about it.” She nods silently like she understands.

After a little more wandering as me and Irina follow the Lieutenant through the bustling streets. Irina holds a face of shame as though she is worried she upset Lieutenant Sprieg about his past. I try to console her to the best of my ability. We approach a vendor that has burlap sacks of cured meats that hang from the roof of the shabily made wooden booth. A tall burly man is the vendor. I notice the many dried jerky in baskets that must be venison. The burly man with a lush black beard notices the Lieutenant. The man sticks out his hand for a handshake and the Lieutenant takes it. The man asks, “You are Odel Sprieg arn’t you?” “I am.” he replies. The man asks,” You were at Kasserine Pass?” “I was.” the Lieutenant replies. “ Maybe you know my son. He was in the 21st Panzer Division. Does the name Albert Uberhousen mean anything to you? ” the man says. The Lieutenant replies, “I’m sorry but no.” “That’s a shame, he would have been honored to know that he took to the field of battle with such an esteemed war hero.” "I'm no hero. I am a survivor.” the Lieutenant replies humbly. The man seems taken back by his reply. Irina asks, “Where is he?” The bearded man replies, “He never came back home, they say he died in the battle. They couldn’t recover him when his tank was hit.” “Oh I’m so sorry.” Irina says. “ Its ok, he died with his men as a leader should. The desert is his home now. He died making the fatherland a better place.”

The Lieutenant’s face turns to one of somber guilt before he recomposes himself. The man asks him, “Why don’t you wear the medal they gave you, you don’t look complete without it.” The Lieutenant replies, “I prefer not to wear it.” “Well that's too bad. Anyway, is there anything you like?” The Lieutenant replies, “We were just leaving.” “Well it was a pleasure to meet you. Heil Hitler!” the bearded man says. The Lieutenant replies half heartedly, “Heil Hitler.” We leave him and make our way through the crowd.

“Franz.” the Lieutenant says, “Say goodbye, we are leaving.” Irina looks at me disappointed, I am too for that matter. She hugs me and kisses me on the cheek before, whispering in my ear, “I’ll write to you.” We finish our embrace and she disappears into the crowd. I carry the cumbersome basket and follow the Lieutenant back to the kubelwagen which is several blocks away. As we embark the vehicle, I place the basket of pickles, tomatoes, corn, and squash in the back seat. I get in the driver’s seat and start up the vehicle. The Lieutenant gets in the passenger seat and we drive down the city road. As we embark on our journey the Lieutenant asks, “Is there something wrong between you two?” I am confused but answer, “Uh no sir.” He responds, “I find it odd that you meet in secret.” He is on to me. I can’t tell him about how Irina’s mother forbade us from seeing each other. If he found out he wouldn’t let us see each other as well. I think of an excuse, “ She just happened to be in the area.” I reply as I swallow hard. I try to keep my nervousness from showing. “Is that so?.... I already know Franz. Obrenski told me.” he says. “What!” I exclaim almost choking. I fume that Obrenski told him in secret. The trouble that I was trying to hide from has found me. I brace for the inevitable scolding, but not before attempting to defend myself. “ Uh sir I can explain.” I plead. “ There is no need Franz. For once I agree with Obrenski.” he says. “What?” I ask confused. “Franz, you should make the most with this girl but keep within the boundaries we talked about. There is no harm in a summer relationship. But do know if you get caught, I can’t help you.” I breathed a sigh of relief, this went better than expected.

Something caught his attention and he commands, “Franz, stop the car.” I slow down and he points to a parking spot next to a flower shop. Not just any flower shop, but the one I visited during the flower festival.

As we exit the vehicle and walk to the door, I can peer inside and see the jungle that appears through the window. Though this time vulgar graffiti is painted in red on the window. On the door hangs a sign bearing "Inferior race." with a rather racial caricature. I feel angry that someone would do this to such a kind lady. "Franz." The Lieutenant orders,"Remove that sign." He has an intolerance for such acts of racism. I take the sign and discard it. I open the door and the Lieutenant steps through. There the portly, kind, Moroccan lady tends to her plants with firm but gentle black hands. The Lieutenant asks, “Troubling youths?” She stops what she is doing and replies, “More of the adults I am afraid.” I am shocked that any adult could stoop to this level of pettiness. The Lieutenant replies, “Forgive them for they know not what they do.” I am stunned because this is the first time I have ever heard him quote the Bible. She replies, “ Luke 23:34. I see you are well versed in scripture.” The Lieutenant replies, “I have done my fair share of reading.” Then she notices me, “Hey kid, did she like the flowers?” I smile and say, “She did, thank you.” She replies confidently, “I knew she would.” She turns to the Lieutenant and says more seriously, “This is the third time this week that I have had to shoo off trouble. They come at night and paint the windows. I’m just glad they are not brave enough to smash the shop.” The Lieutenant looks at the graffiti smeared in red on the widow and commands, “Franz, get a brush and water and scrub that off.” he looks back at her and says, “ If that is alright with you.” She utters shocked this is probably the first anyone has done anything for her, “No thats.. thats ok, I will get it.” The Lieutenant replies, “I insist, get him what he needs.” I wish he didn’t. I don’t want to scrub the window, much less get wet.” She nods and goes to the back rooms only to return with a handle brush and a bucket of soapy water. She hands them to me, and the Lieutenant gives me a stern authoritative look. I, begrudgingly, take the cleaning utensils and head outside. I start by dipping the brush in sudsy water and begin to scrub the window in circular motions. I see the Lieutenant follow the black moroccan lady into the back rooms. After a while of scrubbing, I find the paint comes off surprisingly easy. I also notice that I have attracted an audience. Three well dressed men stare at me from across the street as I work, making me feel uneasy. I see the Lieutenant at the counter with a bundle of flowers. She seems to plead with him but he is insistent on paying.

Suddenly a man shouts from behind me. I turn around and one of the few well dressed men says,” Hey kid, what are you doing helping those filthy animals?” Animals? I can’t believe this. She is a person too. I am about to respond but they approach me menacingly. I sense they have ill intent for me. The Lieutenant steps out of the store with a bundle in his hands and asks calmly, “Gentleman, is there a problem here?” They halt their advance and say,"Why are you helping them dirty animals?" The Lieutenant replies,"Do to others as you would have them do for you." The man replies snarling,"Look at you acting all holy. You can't defend them forever. One day we are going to send them back to Africa where they belong." The man approaches quite aggressively before abruptly stopping. The men's faces turn to surprise. I look over and see the Lieutenant reaching for his pistol. "You gonna shoot me over some dirty african." the man sneers. I feel tense, I have no idea of what the Lieutenant is going to do. The Lieutenant says coldly,"Gentlemen, I recommend you leave before I get the authorities involved." "Oh yeah and what are they going to do? They will help us hang her." The man says. I'm worried that he could be right, the country doesn't look favorably on black persons. The Lieutenant, tired of this immaturity, pulls his pistol out. The two well dressed men in the background look nervous. The man states slyly,"You wouldn't, not for some dirty monkey." The Lieutenant snaps back,"I recommend you leave." I am so nervous that I am sweating but the Lieutenant holds nerves of steel in this standoff. The man moves forward, the sudden crack of the pistol breaks. I closed my eyes but thought surely the Lieutenant wouldn't have killed him, he couldn't have. I open them to see the man frozen, a shell casing litters the ground, a bullet impact in the cobblestone street. The Lieutenant utters a stern order,"That will be your only warning. You are grown men, I expect you to behave like it." The two other men take their accomplice and try to quickly drag him back. He stands in shock like he never expected the Lieutenant to shoot at him. "Franz." The Lieutenant says as he holsters his pistol," We are leaving." I am stunned that the Lieutenant even had the nerve to fire his pistol at a civilian in broad daylight and within city limits.

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We re embark the kubelwagen and the Lieutenant sets the bundle of white roses in the back seat. As I get in the driver's side I ask curiously,"What are those for sir?" "A personal matter Franz." His answer leaves me in wonder. We arrived back at the gun pit in the late afternoon. Kurtz runs around being chased by Otto the cat because Kurtz has a stick with a little piece of meat attached to it. The black feline chases him vigorously, his yellow piercing eyes locked on to the dangling meat. Kurtz dashes frantically as the feline jumps and leaps to get a bite of the morsel. Kurtz laughs and giggles like a small child. Well he is just a child.

Obrenski mans the radio on the table and sits in a chair and listens intently. I am surprised he is actually working and not goofing off like he usually does. Obrenski listens to the radio through the headset. As we approach him, I carry the basket of produce, he spots us and says, “Sprieg, there is a formation that is over Frankfurt but so far that's the only activity close to us.” The Lieutenant utters simply, “Good.” Obrenski then asks, “You know the Allies have a foot hold in Normandy, They are pushing on to Saint-Lô.” The Lieutenant utters simply again, “I am aware.” Obrenski then states with an aggravated but glum face, “Then you know that things aren’t going well. I tell you Sprieg, the Allies will be here before the year’s end.” Lieutenant Sprieg responds, “We will address that when it comes time.” “I still think you should take this more seriously Spreig." Obrenski says. “I am.” replies the Lieutenant.

Kurtz has given up his game of cat and mouse and approaches us. Otto the cat has finally succeeded in his task of capturing the tasty morsel. “Hi Franz! Whatcha go there?” Kurtz says excitedly, eyeing the basket that I hold. The Lieutenant says like a father would, “Franz why don’t you show him what we got him.” I reluctantly pull from the basket, the jar of pickles. Kurtz’s eyes flash brightly with astonishment and excitement. He gasps with joy and shouts,” Oh boy! Pickles! I love pickles!” He takes the glass jar of the green pickled cucumbers and cherishes them as though they were an item long lost and newly found. The Lieutenant commands fatherly, “Don’t eat them all like you did last time.” He nods with glee and says, “Thank you Lieutenant!” “You got him pickles again?” Obrenski asks with quite aggravation as Kurtz struggles to get the lid off of the jar. Obrenski continues, “I am not cleaning his mess again.” I chuckle thinking of Obrenski gagging at attempting to clean the vomit from the barracks floor. Obrenski can’t stand vomit. “Franz gets to pick up after him this time.” Obrenski demands. Kurtz has already unleashed the pickles from their container and he gleefully munches on the salted cucumbers as they produce a crunching sound. His face shows a joy only a child can truly appreciate.

Suddenly a military truck pulls up and out steps the short Sergeant Rudenstoff. He comes to us rather aggressively and snaps, “Sprieg, what the hell do you think you were doing shooting at someone.” Obrenski spits out the water he was drinking and exclaims, “You shot at someone?!” The Lieutenant utters his defense, “They were delinquates and were threatening a shop owner. I simply reminded them to mind their manners.” Sergeant Rudenstoff snaps, “You can’t do something like that Sprieg. This went all the way up to the police commissioner and the General. You are lucky they aren’t going to arrest you because of your past and that you are close with the general.” He continues, “You are lucky they let you keep your pet… Yeah they know about that too. And not to mention all the trouble Obrenski causes.” Obrenski snaps, “Hey!” The Lieutenant looks over his shoulder and says to Obrenski, “He’s right.” Obrenski grumbles to himself. Rudenstoff continues, “You can’t keep doing things like this Spreig, one day your reputation won’t save you.” The Lieutenant utters simply, “We will see.” The Lieutenant then asks, “Did you get the film developed?” I almost forgot about the film roll from the british bomber that crashed in the woods. I shudder at the thought of that creepy place. Rudenstoff says, “Yeah and you won’t believe whats on it. A prison, the largest I have ever seen.” Obrenski utters confused, “A prison? Why would they take pictures of a prison? I didn’t think we have prisons in Poland.” The Lieutenant says simply, “We don’t” Obrenski asks, “Do you think the Allies are going to raid it?” Rudenstoff replies, “ I don’t know, but it is huge. It would take an army to liberate it.”

The Lieutenant pauses like an idea struck his mind. He disappears into his shack and returns with a rolled up map. He unfurled the map on the table with the radio and we gather around. He says,"This is a map of the known military installations in Europe. Obrenski, where did you say that was?" Obrenski replies,"Southwest Poland." The Lieutenant examines the map thoroughly and says, "There are no prisons there. Obrenski are you sure?" "I am positive Sprieg. I saw the navigation logs with my own eyes." I add,"The man we captured was the navigator wasn't he? He said they were on a secret mission." Lieutenant Sprieg states,"That's odd, why would there be a prison but it's not on the map. This map isn't that old." "Well whatever it is, it is definitely there." Rudenstoff says. Obrenski adds," Maybe its secret." I ask,"Why would we have a secret prison." The Lieutenant utters,"I don't know. This is a mystery indeed." The Lieutenant orders,"Rudy, go through the headquarters archives, maybe they have some information that is current. Report what you find back to me and do it discreetly, if this really is a secret I don't want those in authority finding out." Rudenstoff says,"Nah uh I am not sticking my neck out for you Spreig, not on this one." The Lieutenant says calmly, “ Remember what you owe me Rudy." "Dammit Sprieg!" Rudenstoff snaps,"I knew you would hold it against me." The Lieutenant orders reasuringly, “Just do some digging around, I will handle whatever trouble that comes." "You better Sprieg, one of these days I will stop sticking my neck out for you." The Lieutenant utters slyly, “You know you couldn't even if you wanted to." "Fine, I'll do it, but next time get a new errand boy." Rudenstoff snaps. "Thank you Rudy." The Lieutenant says with a smile. "Yeah yeah yeah, I going to get in so much trouble with this." As he walks off to his vehicle and embarks. "That was rather brash of you Spreig, it's unlike you to pull favors." Obrenski says. Lieutenant replies,"I want to find out why exactly there is a secret prison, and why I wasn't informed." I say,"Maybe they don't want us to know." Obrenski states, "That's precisely why I want to know." Lieutenant comments,"I like to be well informed."

Some hours have passed and the rays of orange sunlight find their way into the windows flooding the barracks. I endure my punishment of having to clean the barracks alone per the Lieutenants order. I have already scrubbed the dishes, placed all of our vegetables in storage, organized the cans, picked up the floor and swept. Now all that's left is to make the beds. I take Kurtz's blanket and shake off the many wood shavings. Kurtz is trying his hand at whittling in an effort to make crude airplanes from a block of wood. So far his venture has been unsuccessful but it is humorous to watch. I fold the blanket on the bed before tending to my own. For the most part my side is pretty well kept. I eye numerous books that line the shelf behind the cot. Then on to Obrenski's cot, I find it a disheveled mess with multiple small boxes tucked under the bed. The shelf behind his cot has a stack of stationary I reckon is from his many mistresses. A solo letter sits atop his bed tucked between the blanket and sheet, no doubt another love letter from one of his many concubines. I pick it up and am about to place it aside when curiosity takes hold of me. I wonder what he says to those women. I decide to unfold it and gaze upon its contents. It reads:

December 18th, 1942

Dear Father,

I want you to know I love you dearly. The battle for Stalingrad is not going well and we are under siege. The Russians have us encircled and outnumbered. Only a few of us remain in the battered city now. It is only a matter of time before they come for us. So with heavy heart father, I have decided to commit suicide rather then be tortured and beaten by the Russians. I am sorry Father, I will miss you dearly. Do you think that mother would have been proud of me? I am sorry I have disappointed you in the past. I know you didn't want me to join the Party but I felt like it was my duty. Only now do I see you were right. Don't bother writing back because the deed will be done by then. I love you very dearly Father. This is goodbye.

Love, your only son,

Max.

I stand there with tears welling with my eyes and in complete shock. What I expected was a perversions filled letter that was instead the final farewell letter of Obrenski's only child. A son that Obrenski hardly mentions. Then a terrible realization struck me, the letters he reads at night are all from his son. I scramble through the stack of letters to confirm my theory. And sure enough, all of them are addressed by his son. Obrenski reads them every night, torturing himself to keep his son's memory alive. I feel so heartbroken and ashamed of myself for assuming. Tears trickle down my face now knowing that the pain that Obrenski is trying to hide. No wonder he drinks and lusts, it's all a distraction from the pain of losing his wife and child. Why didn't he ever tell me? My heart hurts for him.

I wipe the tears from my eyes and finish my task. Heading outside, I see the purple and pink rays of the sun that color the sparse clouds. The wheat of the farmers field blow in the summer wind. I turn, and to my suprise, to see Orenski sitting in the Lieutenant’s chair manning the radio. I approach him and tap on his shoulder. He removes his head set and asks sharply, “What do you want?” “Where is Lieutenant Spreig?” I ask. Obrenski draws a long drag on his cigarette and blows it out, pointing out side of the trench. I see a figure about ten yards ahead of our gun pit digging holes into the ground. I ask Obrenski," What's he doing?” “He is digging graves Franz.” I look to Obrenski astonished. “What? why?” I ask. Obrenski replies, "Because he has seen things that no man should see."

I look out and see the Lieutenant, with shovel in hand, furiously digging into the earth. I can make out each outline of seven rectangular holes in the ground with accompanying mounds of dirt.

I stare a while as the Lieutenant continues his task, I listen closely and hear him calling out.“ Fitz…. Fitz Moller…..Fitz Ernest Moller?” The Lieutenant stops and before refilling the hole he just dug.

Obrenski suddenly says, “You know I was similar to him when I was in the First World War.” "Really?" I ask. "Yeah." He says in sober reminiscence,"I spent six months on the Somme fighting the British. They were persistent bastards, I tell you. Then I spent another four months in a field hospital while they dug shrapnel out of my back. Doc said I was lucky to be alive and even luckier that I could walk. When I recovered, I volunteered for the stormtroopers." "You were a stormtrooper?" I ask astonished, no wonder he could shoot so well, he was part of an elite unit. "Yeah, we were the best of the best and we knew it. I fought against the Italians at Caporetto, we pushed them all the way back to Piave river. You should have seen how we had them on the run. Then this happened." He says as he points to the scar that runs vertical over his left eye. "An Arditi knife did this." he says. A knife? I never realized how close the fighting was in the first world war. "The Arditi were the best men they had, and they were stubborn bastards. They put up a good fight. It was four years before my sight returned to me." He continues reminiscing,"You know Franz, when I just look out of this eye, all I see is black and white. Doc could never explain it to me." He pauses a while and then says," You know Franz, I can still hear my friends screaming. All these years later and I can still hear them as clear as day." I, confused, ask, “ How do you get rid of them?” “You don’t." he replies,"You learn to live with it.” He takes another long drag on his cigarette and ends it with a puff of smoke. This poor man I never realized what all he has been through.

The Lieutenant digs another hole and calls out another name in a haunting manner. It's as though some supernatural force compels him to do this. Obrenski speaks,"Those were his men Franz, he feels like he failed them and they haunt him every night. They say it's called survivor's guilt or something but I know it keeps him from sleeping. I catch him crying some nights." I stutter," I…I never knew." "He hides it well, doesn't he?" Obrenski says,"But every man breaks eventually, he is no different. Do you want to know how he got that medal?" "Yeah." I say almost quietly. " I knew he wouldn’t tell anybody but I found out. He and his men were defending the Kasserine Pass when the Americans, in there brand new boots and tanks show up. He fought them back, then the next day they came with a vengeance. They overran him and slaughtered his crew and took him prisoner. He stayed in a prison camp for twenty days before he lead a breakout. That's where he came to know Rudy, they escaped together." I suddenly realize that that is the favor Sergeant Rudenstoff was talking about. He continues," He and forty men wandered the desert for seven days before a reconnaissance vehicle found them. But they were attacked by the Americans and had to defend an outpost, Sprieg lead that defense with a ragtag group of soldiers who were barely armed and managed to beat back the assault. That is how he got that medal." I look at the Lieutenant in awe and realize I am in the presence of broken but heroic men. They have my immense respect and I can't help but feel awful for all of the things that have gone through. I admire them for their resilience through all of their tragedies.

Kurtz emerges from whatever he was doing and asks,"Franz, what is the Lieutenant doing?" How do I explain the powerful force of emotional turmoil that Lieutenant Sprieg is going through that drives him to dig graves for his long fallen friends. He wouldn't understand so I answer,"He lost something." "What did he lose Franz?" Obrenski mumbles," His mind." Kurtz presses his interrogation of me. I can only respond, "Well uh uh." Obrenski finishes for me,"We will tell you when you are older. For now it's best to leave him alone." Kurtz replies,"Oh ok, I hope he finds it."

Lieutenant Sprieg shouts another name and awaits a reply that will never come before digging another hole, his character is silhouetted by the fading sun. "Oh Franz, the Lieutenant says he wants you to clean his "office"." Obrenski says. I huff and head to the Lieutenants shack. As I enter the hardwood creaks, his fresh clean uniform hangs from a bar that runs across the ceiling. His cot is already well made. A filing cabinet sits in the corner. I see on the Lieutenant's desktop white roses and two photographs. Both of which I had never noticed before. One picture is of a woman in a dress and a teenage child in overalls. It must be his family. The other picture is that of a group of men huddled around a flak 88 cannon, that must have been his crew. They stand around smiling shoulder to shoulder in short sleeve uniforms and shorts. They must be a part of the Africa Corp. Upon his desk sits an open letter and I decide to look upon it.

It reads:

Sprieg,

Are you sure you don't want to go back to the front? You make an excellent officer and you would be a part of one of our best brigades. We could even get you a commision to Major. I know you had that spell in the sanitorium, but that's behind you. You're no coward, we all know that but why choose an assignment in the middle of a nowhere town with little strategic value. It just seems like a waste of your skills. People are saying you lost your nerve for battle but we know that's not true. If you want to be reinstated into a combat brigade, the option is there for you.

Sincerely,

General Oskar Yodel.

I never knew the Lieutenant was admitted to a sanitorium. Was the pain of losing his men too much to where he broke. Only the mentally ill have been hospitalized, was he that bad?bWill he go back to the front? Surely not.

The door is suddenly opened and there stands Lieutenant Sprieg in a dirt covered and disheviel uniform. I have never seen him like this before. I am so startled that I jump back. He speaks softly, “Franz, the roses please.” I hand him the bundle of white roses from off the desk. He gently takes them before leaving. I follow him outside to see him walk towards the decaying sun and place a single white rose on each individual mound of dirt, nine in total. Each mound has a rectangular grave. Once he has finished placing the roses he offers a stiff salute and holds it for some time. Me, Obrenski and Kurtz stare in awe as he retains his salute until the rays of the sun are no longer visible and night begins to fall. Obrenski suddenly asks rhetorically,"What if everything you knew, everything you cared about, suddenly burned to ash. Would you remain the same?" I ponder this and never expected such a display of poetry. Even though Obrenski is a troublemaker and gives the Lieutenant a hard time, he still admires him. The Lieutenant abruptly stops and returns to us. As he approaches, I can see where tears have dried on his cheeks. He walks up to Obrenski with saddened eyes and says gently, “Thank you Obrenski, you are dismissed.” Obrenski looks equally saddened and says, ”Don’t worry about it.” The Lieutenant addresses all of us and says, “Gentlemen, you are all dismissed, get a good night rest because we will be running drills tomorrow.” Kurtz wimpers, “Aww, I hate drills.” I say, “Come on Kurtz, lets go get in bed. “But I’m not tired.” he whines. I drag him by the arm and attempt to give the Lieutenant some privacy. I hear Obrenski whisper to the Lieutenant, “Are you going to be ok?” The Lieutenant replies and equal whisper, “I’ll be fine.”

Me and Kurtz enter the barrack and I light the oil lamp above Obrenski's cot. We take our places on our prospective cots. After a minute, Kurtz asks me, “Franz, whats wrong with the Lieutenant?” even Kurtz was able to pick up on his saddened state. I don’t know how to tell him so I say, “He is sad.” “Why is he sad Franz?” he asks. “He lost some people.” I say. “Was it his family?” he asks. I reply, “Something like that.” After the Lieutenant lost his wife and child, his men were probably the only family he had left. “Well I hope he finds them again.” Kurtz says naively.

After a while Obrenski walks in and takes off his boots and sits on his cot. I didn't want him to know I had read his letters. He takes the letter that I had read, which was tucked in his bed, and quietly reads it to himself. Kurtz has already fallen asleep and the rays of the moon pirce thebuilding. Obrenski blows out the oil lamp and rolls over in his cot. I roll over and cover myself, preparing myself for sleep.Then I hear it, the sound of muffled sobs coming from Obrenski’s side of the room. He cries to himself quietly in an effort to conceal his sorrows. I feel so sorry for him and the Lieutenant. I never realized just how tragic their lives were. I admire how strong they attempt to be in an effort to hide their pain. Each man handles his pains differently. Obrenski is drinking and lusting and Lieutenant Sprieg chose solitude. Even though they choose different paths, their pain is similar. They both lost their families, and now have to endure that hardship alone. God help them, God save them.