Work Text:
0200 hours (2:00 AM), August 26, 1939
Knochenstadt, Kingdom of Bavaria, German Empire
"Something is wrong."
This was the first thought that entered Hunter's mind as he stared out into No Man's Land. Everything, truly, was as it should have been-he was in his uniform, muddier than a pig, his rifle was in his hands, and the same could be said of his comrades around him. In the distance, he could hear gunfire, artillery, and explosions. Just another day on the Western Front.
So what was wrong?
He had little time to dwell on this question, for an explosion suddenly went off near him-close enough for it to shower him in dirt, but not close enough to do anything more. An officer called, "Artillerie! Köpfe runter!" As Hunter heard another artillery shell about to land near him, he ducked down, listening as the shell detonated and took a couple men with it. After about a minute, the shelling stopped and he rose. Ahead, he saw at least a hundred French soldiers, probably more, charge towards the trenches, each of their Lebel rifles tipped with a huge 20-inch bayonet.
Hunter took aim and began firing at the enemy with his own Mauser rifle, though its meager five-round internal magazine meant that he quickly found himself reloading. That being said, it was a very quick affair, not at all like the muskets of old. All he had to do was open the bolt, insert the rounds via a stripper clip-even now, Lord knew how many years since he'd first learned the name of the device, Hunter thought it was comical-and close the bolt again. However, Hunter found that his hands were shaking, and as a result, the reload took a little longer than usual.
By the time he had successfully loaded his gun once more, the French had somehow already reached their trenches. Next to him, he heard one leap into the trench, plunging his bayonet into a fellow soldier's chest as his head quickly turned over to witness the deed. He turned his rifle to take aim at the assailant, only for him to yank it out of his hands with his own. It was over. He was defenseless now. There was nothing to stop his enemy. He closed his eyes, perhaps vainly hoping that if he didn't watch himself die, it wouldn't hurt as much. The Frenchman raised his rifle, bayonet aimed straight at Hunter's heart, and-
"Hunter!"
His eyes flew open and he practically shot forward, but he didn't see any of it anymore. No Man's Land, the French, the trenches-they were all gone. Instead, he was in bed late at night, and slowly, he remembered: The war was over. In a few weeks, in fact, the 20-year anniversary of the war's end would come to pass. The men he'd seen in the dream, Germans and Frenchmen alike, were all either living more peaceful lives now or dead. Now, there was only his wife.
Now that his thoughts had gone to Willow, he decided to lean back, remembering that she had been sleeping next to him. "Komm her," she said softly, wrapping him in her arms and guiding him towards her, his head ending up on her chest, his ear right above her heart. After a couple seconds of silence, she asked, "Der Krieg?" "Ja," the soldier she'd married, now so old and yet still so young, only in his late thirties, answered weakly.
"Mein armer Mann. We've been done with that damn war for almost 20 years now. When will it be done with you?" As Hunter shifted to wrap his arms around her midsection, she moved one of her hands up from his back and to his head, giving him gentle scratches upon his scalp. She had learned about the nightmares not long after she'd moved in with Hunter, and in the years since, she had learned and committed to memory what soothed him and brought him back to Earth. Whenever he had a nightmare as a child, he claimed, his mother would have him lay his head on her chest and scratch his head, just like what was happening now, and it had never failed to send him back to sleep.
Tonight, it seemed, would be no exception. Before he drifted off fully to sleep, however, he planted a kiss on his wife's cheek. Even in his fatigued state, he owed her that much affection, and so much more. Luck had kept the war from killing him, but Willow had kept the aftermath from doing so.
"Gute Nacht. Ich liebe dich."
"Gute Nacht mein Liebling. Ich liebe dich auch."
0800 hours (8:00 AM)
When Hunter was awakened once more, it was not by his wife saving him from another night terror. Instead, it was by the sun shining brightly in the sky. "That's unusual," he thought, "The sun usually isn't up by six. That's when it rises!" Then, he looked to the clock to see the time: 8:00 AM. He'd slept in! He almost threw himself out of bed before he remembered that today was a Saturday. He had the day off.
And, he remembered, so did his wife.
He looked over and found that Willow was still sound asleep. "Whatever did I do to deserve you," he thought as he laid back down and held her once more. Ever since they'd started dating all those years ago-hell, ever since they'd met just a year or two before the war, and especially since the war, he'd found himself asking that question to himself, the answer always eluding him. Willow soon woke up, finding Hunter still holding onto her, albeit he was now awake. "Guten Morgen," she said, her voice still sounding like she was half-asleep, "What time is it?" Hunter gave her a quick kiss before answering, "Guten Morgen. It's eight."
"Eight? Hunter, please let me go, we need to get up, go to work."
"I think not."
"And why would that be?"
"Heute ist Samstag."
Willow giggled, then squeezed her husband a little tighter.
"So is this how you would like to spend it?"
"I would like nothing more."
"Neither would I."
The couple laid there for a minute or two, simply enjoying each other's presence, before they heard a loud knocking at the door.
"Who could that be on a Saturday, of all days?"
Slowly and with some reluctance, Hunter released his wife, clambered out of bed, and put his slippers on before walking downstairs to answer the door. There, he found a man much younger than him, surely in his early twenties at most, holding a letter. "Guten Morgen, herr," he said, "Are you Hunter Wittebane?" Confused, he answered, "Yes, that would be I." The young man held out his letter for Hunter to take.
"I have an urgent message for all members of Der Stahlhelm. This one's yours."
Still confused, Hunter took the letter, causing the man to turn around and walk away as he closed the door. He, too, turned around, where he noticed Willow brewing a pot of coffee. "What is it," she asked as the coffee finished brewing and she began searching for some mugs. Hunter was initially silent, walking towards the kitchen table and sitting down before answering as Willow set a piping hot mug in front of him, "We're about to find out." He donned his reading glasses, now an unfortunate necessity, opened the envelope, and unfolded the letter inside. Atop it was the logo of Der Stahlhelm, Bund der Frontsoldaten, a veteran's organization which had been formed-and Hunter had joined-not long after the war's end. Below that, it read:
To be delivered to: Wittebane, H., 323 Prinz-Joachim-Straße
Soldiers of the Fatherland! Once more, the threat of the Communards has reared its terrible head, and our duty, as loyal sons of great Germany and faithful servants of the Emperor, is to face it. The great Field Marshal August von Mackensen has passed onto us grave information: The perfidious French have demanded the return of Alsace-Lorraine! Should our government refuse to concede by the first of September-which, there can be no doubt, they will-then there will be war. We urge you, fighting men of Germany, to find the nearest recruitment office and enlist, so that we may swiftly crush this menace, once and for all! Für Gott, Kaiser und Vaterland!
Signed,
Bundesführer Franz Seldte
Slowly, Hunter placed the letter and his reading glasses onto the table as he processed what he had just read. A war between the nations now constituting the Internationale and Reichspakt had been seen as inevitable since the two alliances rose and even before then, when the Commune of France rose. Still, it was hard to believe that it was now on the horizon. The day he got home from France, he swore that he would never return to the Army, and now he was being asked to do so.
Unfortunately, he knew he couldn't really refuse. Either he could volunteer, or he could wait to be conscripted.
"What is it," Willow asked again. This time, Hunter answered, "The French want Alsace-Lorraine back. From the looks of things, there's going to be a war. They want the veterans to re-enlist."
"What?! That's insane! You've already done your part for your country! This may be grim for me to say, but if they want men to fight, send the men who want to go kill and die for their country, not the ones who already have!"
Hunter didn't offer a response, for he'd already made his decision and knew it would only lead to an argument. After coffee and a quick breakfast, he changed from his night clothing to a day outfit. Then, he decided, it was time to leave. As he put on his hat and placed a hand on the door, he called to his wife, "Willow, my dear?" "Yes, darling," she answered from the kitchen, where she was almost finished washing the dishes from breakfast.
"How quickly do you think we could have Rose on a train back from Breitesterücken?"
Willow thought on that for a moment. Breitesterücken was quite far from Knochenstadt, off in Oldenburg, almost 700 kilometers away. Albeit, trains were now incredibly fast, so she doubted it would take as long as she'd think it would. So, she wagered a guess.
"I would think by noon. Why do you ask?"
"Would you please call Luz and have her send Rose back? Tell her to tell Rose that I'll meet her at the train station."
"Sure thing. May I ask why?" Hunter offered no response. He didn't need to, for after a moment, Willow put the pieces together on her own, which she signified with a gasp. "Are you enlisting?!"
"I have no choice in the matter, you know that!"
Willow set down the plate she was washing, exited the kitchen, and approached Hunter.
"You never know! Maybe this war will end before they have to start up conscription again! Please, Hunter! You swore that you would never go back to the Army at our wedding!"
"Well how could I have known when this war was going to happen, let alone that it's starting now?!"
Willow didn't offer a response immediately. She folded her arms and, after a moment of silence, sighed.
"I can't talk you out of this, can I?"
"I already told you, I have to do this."
"Fine. I'll go make the call."
With that, Hunter opened the door and left. Willow made her way to the phone to make the call, but before she did, she sat on the couch and cried, unlike she ever had before.
1300 hours (1:00 PM)
Rose's train ended up being slightly behind schedule, arriving just a few minutes before Hunter's train to Alsace-Lorraine was to depart. Hunter and Willow waited there, together, with countless other soldiers and many of their wives. Since Hunter had been in the Army before, the process of enlistment was much swifter than it was the first time. Like the others, he was clad in full uniform and already had all his combat gear, all largely resembling a soldier's kit from the end of the Weltkrieg, albeit with slight differences, particularly in naming. For instance, his helmet was now called the M1935, and on its side was a small Wappenschild, divided diagonally and colored white on top and blue on bottom, signifying that his was an all-Bavarian unit.
"Five minutes to departure," the officer leading Hunter's unit, the 79th Bavarian Infantry Battalion, called soon after Rose arrived. "This is it," Hunter remarked almost immediately after to his wife and his daughter. He leaned forward to kiss the former, who then said, "Promise me this: You will come home. I will see you again."
"I promise. The last war couldn't kill me. What makes you think this one can?"
When he made that promise, he meant it. He'd broken the last one he made to Willow. Come Hell or high water, he would not break this one. He then looked to Rose and said to her, "Rose, meine wunderschöne Blume, while I am away, I have a very big task for you. Do you think you will be able to do it?" He'd not used his now 13-year-old daughter's nickname in many years, but he decided that now would be the best time to use it, for it could've been the last time he ever could-again, he intended to return home in one piece, but in reality, that was for the hidden hand of Fate to decide, not him. After a couple seconds of silence, wherein Rose contemplated what to say, she answered, "Ja, papa."
"While I am gone, I need you to stay strong. Stay strong for yourself. Stay strong for your mother. Stay strong for me. That's how we're going to get through this, is by staying strong. I have no idea when I'll see you again-it could be in six days, it could be in six years, for all that I know. But so long as we all stay strong, I will see you again. Can you do that for me?"
Rather than reply, Rose nodded, then hugged Hunter tightly, her father returning the favor. They held each other for a moment before the whistle on Hunter's train blew, signaling that it was time to go. With that, the two reluctantly let each other go and he followed the other soldiers as they loaded in. As the train began to roll away, he rolled down a window, stuck his head out as far as his helmet would permit him, and called back to Willow and Rose, "Ich liebe dich!" Before either one could answer, he was gone.
"Ich liebe dich auch, Hunter."