Chapter Text
Keep your feet separated for balance. The rifle is held firmly, but without tension. Angle the barrel slightly to the left. Bend your left knee, brace your right leg.
Onto: Formations
Karl flipped aimlessly through the training manual. He already knew everything in the book, practically had it memorized front to back. There was no reason for him to be shifting through it, but he couldn’t help himself.
He hesitated for a moment, before flipping back to the front page; its familiar yellow-white colour, illuminated in the dark by his lantern. He swiped his thumb, once, then twice, over the signature in the corner.
Gebhard Leberecht von Blücher.
What was this feeling? This was the book that his field commander- no- mentor had gifted to him. Maybe during his academy days, he couldn’t quite remember.
Why couldn’t he remember? His head, in his ears. That damned ringing! Maybe, just maybe, if he closed his eyes for just a moment…
Absolutely not!
He closes the book with a bit too much force, shoving it back in his bag. There was no time to reminisce on old memories or- whatever was happening here. He had a job to do, men to lead. His mentor would be disappointed to see him in such a state. People were COUNTING on him. This was his JOB. The one he had worked for his entire life. His mentor was waiting for him in Kaub. He had to remain strong, he had to stay awake. Anybody else, anybody weaker. But not him, no, never him.
His parents would kill him. They would kill him. They would kill him.They would kill him.They would kill hi
Karl straightened up. His knees complained, his back ached, but he did not move from his night watch. Most of the other soldiers had gone to sleep, with a few standing guard. He remembered his surgeon, the same one that had shamelessly laughed at him during dinner, pleading with him.
“Nein, nein, sir! You need the rest! We’ve been marching for days, and you’ve barely slept. I’ll arrange someone else to take first shift just-”
He didn’t even need to hear the rest.
“You’ll? YOU’LL arrange someone to take the first shift? Need I remind you.”
He got a few paces closer.
“Who is in charge.”
And that was that. He smiled self satisfied at the memory. The way his surgeon had scurried off with a quick nod and “yes sir!”
And that is how he had ended up taking up the nightwatch in front of the medical tent. Arguably one of the most important positions, as he was guarding their injured. A noble position fitting for a noble man.
And even though he was tired, this exhaustion was nothing compared to his days in the academy. He spent restless nights studying by lantern light, recounting formations and equations. His lazy dorm mates always complaining saying “he worked too hard.”
Ha! As if that was a thing!
He was up and out on the tracks the second the sun gleamed over the horizon; and by the time his dorm mates were waking up, struggling to get dressed in the dim light of the morning- he’d already be fully dressed and properly groomed.
There was no one else more fitting for this task than him.
He focused himself, staring intently into the darkness, looking for any strays of movement. He’d be ready to take on any threat, his sabre and pistol still strapped to him. The moon held high, her light illuminating a few paces in front of him. His lantern warmed the spot next to his feet. It was quiet. So quiet. So serene. He could almost just.. If he closed his eyes… just for a moment…
“AGH”
Karl jolted awake. A yell from the medical tent startled him. He rushed in in an instant, hand braced against the hilt of his sabre. Was it one of those creatures? Der Wiedergänger?!
His heart rabbited against his chest, eyes wildly scanning the area- but there was nothing. Just injured men, groaning at the noise, turning over in their cots, hoping to get a few more hours of rest. He looked around, his hand still braced against his sabre, but his stance relaxing.
There was nothing here.
Karl scoffed. He had gotten worked up over nothing. That was until he noticed him.
Curled up in the corner- sitting upright in his cot shaking- was that- was that-
Jakob?
He squinted, seeing that familiar scruff of blonde hair. It was him!
Karl hesitated. It was that sapper he had helped back in Leipzig. It wasn’t like he knew the man particularly well. They had a few sparse conversations here and there, mostly work related, but that was it. In Leipzig, his surgeon had urged him to leave him behind. He’s dead weight, he’s on the brink of death, he’ll only weigh us down! Toss his body in the river- and oh god if you're the sentimental type, we’ll bury him! But Karl could tell the quality of a man. No, he wasn’t close to Jakob, but he had seen his work. His barricades were sturdy, they held strong even against those ravenous beasts. It wasn’t personal; they just- needed a sapper. A capable sapper. Thats absolutely why he had insisted on saving Jakob’s life, and not because of any personal fondness for the man.
It didn’t mean anything.
But still, he felt a certain.. Responsibility. He was the one who had insisted on not leaving Jakob behind. It was clear the man was in distress, rocking back and forth in his cot, shaking like a leaf in the wind. Karl felt awkward just standing there. He could leave. He could wake up one of the surgeons to take care of him, and go back to his watch. Honestly, Jakob wasn’t even HIS. He didn’t belong to his unit, and he was French. The enemy.
He thought of those foolish men, exchanging pleasantries during dinner. He felt uncomfortable. One single thought prevailed; Jakob was his sapper now. Jakob was one of his men. Jakob was in his care.
And against his better judgement, he went towards the man. He awkwardly walked up behind him, placing his gloved hand on Jakob’s shoulder, shuddering at the rough texture of his skin.
“Hey.”
He was then immediately hit in the face.