The snow had yet to be entirely clear from the Russian Soil, despite the fact that it was finally spring. Instead, Ludwig sat huddled up against the wall of a shelled outbuilding. The ruined structure provided no shelter to the man, who watched the snowflakes fall as soldiers walked past him, not even recognizing the officer tabs on his uniform’s shoulders.
He was just another shell-shocked soldier. One who was staring off into space. The thunder of guns in the distance had no effect on the man as he stared a thousand yards into the distance. He did not even recognize two men who were close members of his family as they approached him.
Bruno and Kurt spoke in the background. What they said went entirely unnoticed to Ludwig, who was suffering from a rather acute case of temporary tinnitus. The ringing in his ears blocking out what they said, as their lips moved in accordance with the words spoken.
Of course, Bruno was concerned about his brother’s state. It had been over a month since the Siege of Tsaritsyn. And no doubt the man was shaken by the battle. But as the Iron Division marched further and further throughout the Volga Region, hunting down and eliminating the remnants of the Red Army in the area. Ludwig’s mental state seemed to take a turn for the worse.
“You said he’s been like this for half an hour now? Didn’t we just take the town precisely thirty-five minutes ago?”
Bruno took a look at his watch to confirm that was indeed the amount of time that had passed since taking the town from the entrenched Red Army. Kurt nodded his head, confirming this was the case, while speaking to Bruno with a state of worry in his voice.
“Bru… I mean General… I have never seen anything like this before. He just seems out of it. But there are no signs of head trauma. I mean, there’s not even a cut on him! Do you know what’s wrong with our brother?”
Bruno was all too aware of what Ludwig was suffering from, as he too was suffering from the repeated stress of combat. However, Ludiwg’s symptoms were much more severe. Causing Bruno to shake his head and sigh, as he told his other older brother that he would handle it.
“This isn’t something the medics can cure… Relax, I’ll handle it. You go deal with the others who are wounded. I’ve got this handled.”
Kurt looked at his youngest brother, who he had routinely bullied throughout their youth, with a complicated expression. Ludwig and he had always treated Bruno poorly, whether in their childhood or until relatively recently as adults.
This behavior stemmed from their jealousy towards Bruno. He was the youngest of their siblings, but by far the most exceptional, and he had proved this repeatedly throughout his life. The two brothers were indeed surprised when Bruno had accepted their request to prove themselves in the Russian Civil War. They had, after all, expected the man to reject them.
But now Bruno was showing more concern for either of them than he ever had before. Kurt, who was hesitating to say what he wanted to say, was addressed by Bruno, who pulled out his pack of cigarettes and began smoking all while yelling at Kurt to do as he was ordered.
“What the fuck are you waiting for? I said I got this, didn’t I? Now go! There are more serious wounded who need to be looked after, and you’re a fucking medic, aren’t you?”
After receiving this kick in the pants, Kurt saluted Bruno and responded in affirmation before running off to do as commanded.
“Yes, sir!”
After Kurt was out of sight, Bruno sighed heavily, and groaned like an old man, despite being in his mid-twenties, as he sat down next to his older brother in the snow. Who was still staring off into the distance.
There was a gentle tone in Bruno’s voice as he handed one of his cigarettes to the man, offering such a kindness for perhaps the first time in his life to him.
“Take it… Trust me, it will make you feel better…”
Ludwig instinctively reached out and grabbed the cigarette, and pressed it to his lips, where Bruno lit it for him, all while not even looking at his younger brother once. Even when Bruno spoke, the man still sat there staring at nothing in particular.
“It never gets any easier by the way… This… This is what you wanted to experience… This is the glory of war, Ludwig. The lies you were told as a child, by our father, by our grandfather, by your teachers, and your priests.
It’s all a load of bullshit designed to entice young men to go out and get themselves killed by the politicians who decided that they should die for some stupid reason or another. I wanted to refuse your request, and Kurt’s, for that matter. I mean, at least part of me did. But another part of me felt like someone else in our generation deserved to know the truth.
So… This is it… This is what the two of you begged me to join. Is it as chivalrous as you imagined Ludwig?”
As Bruno leaned back against what remained of the wall supporting his back and took a long drag, he waited for Ludwig to snap out of his entranced state and respond to him. Observing the background as he did so.
Bodies lie in the streets, while the wounded howled in agony. The town, or what remained of it, was shelled into ruin. The only building which miraculously remained untouched by the flames of war was interestingly enough the local chapel.
While its windows had been shattered by shrapnel, and the walls were pickpocketed with fragmentation. It still stood in good enough condition to host a service. Assuming the parish was willing to endure the chilling winds which swept through the windows that once kept them out.
It was a gruesome scene, one which was not at all what the naïve youth would have been told about the battlefield, and how they should aspire to earn glory for God, kaiser, and fatherland by fighting for the Reich.
Finally, Ludwig’s brain began to gain some clarity, Bruno’s words clearly having an impact as he slowly stirred into motion. First with a slight jarring of his head which quickly turned to a shake, and finally by pressing the lit cigarette to his lips and taking a deep inhale of the burnt nicotine within, before responding to his brother’s words as if he had not just spent five minutes between them.
“N… No… Not in the slightest… This is…. There are not words…”
Bruno himself took a drag from his own cigarette before breaking out his flask full of vodka, which protected his heart. He unscrewed the top and drank a sip, before wiping off the lid with the grimy sleeve of his coat and handing it to his brother.
“Drink! You have earned it…”
Ludwig took a large gulp from the flask full of hard liquor before another, and another. Until finally, Bruno pried the container from the man’s firm hands. Once he did so, he stood up and reached out to Ludwig with a helping hand, who was far more lucid now.
Ludwig slowly grabbed onto it as Bruno hoisted him to his feet and patted him on the back. It was only now that the man realized he had been sitting in the snow for so long that his pants were completely drenched, so much so that he was chilled to the bone.
Bruno then made a remark to the man that shocked him. But he did so with a bitter smile on his face, because the news was an act of mercy on his part.
“You’re going home Ludwig. I’ll arrange a carriage to take you to the nearest train station. From there it’s a short journey to Saint Petersburg where you will catch the next ship back to the Fatherland. Now that you have had a taste for war, you would do well to remember what you have experienced here. So that one day if you do end up succeeding our father in the Bundesrat, you don’t make the mistake of sending poor sods like yourself to a place like this…”
Ludwig instantly stirred to attention as he looked at Bruno as if the man had offended him after hearing the man dismiss him back to the Reich, almost as if he had somehow failed to perform adequately on the field of battle. Something which he was quick to express.
“No, Brot- General, I can still fight! You don’t have to do this!”
Bruno, however, placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder and shook his head. There was a gentle smile on his face, which was something Ludwig had never seen from the man before. Bruno then spoke to him with a tone that was warm and brotherly as he explained to the man that there was no shame in ending the campaign early.
“You are mistaken brother, there is no shame in retiring now. By all means, your service should have ended a month ago. You are frankly well beyond the means of your contract with the German Army. Besides, it would be an act of cruelty on my part if I kept you here any longer. Not all wounds are inflicted upon the flesh, and the scars which you now bear will remain with you for the rest of your life. To add any further injury to you would be both unnecessary and wicked. And as much as you and Kurt may have treated me poorly these past 25 years. I assure you; I never intended any malice to either of you.
For the time being Kurt remains capable of serving, but if I notice he too suffers from the same degree which you have, I will send him back to mother and father as a hero of war, like I am now doing to you. Go and rest, brother. Your role in this war is over.
You can keep your head high and return to your family as the war hero you always wanted to be. When this conflict is over, you will be rewarded with a medal for the bravery and courage you have shown here. The Kaiser has assured me of this.
But you should understand that it is not politically expedient to issue such awards for the time being. You will have to remain patient. Perhaps when you are in Saint Petersburg, you might find yourself having a Cross of Saint George pinned to your chest as well. If you are lucky, that is.”
Ludwig did not know what to say, nor did he need to say anything. He would salute Bruno before walking off. Soon enough he would find himself in a transport wagon, which took him back to Tsaritsyn and its rail station.
As Bruno had heavily implied, when the man returned to Saint Petersburg, the Generals in the Russian Army had pinned a Cross of Saint George to his chest. Which was both the first and last medal for distinction in combat that Ludwig would receive.
Even if it wasn’t one awarded by the German Military for its soldiers, it was enough to make Ludwig feel like he had accomplished something in this brutal campaign. One that would leave lasting effects on the man’s mental state for the rest of his life. Interestingly enough, Bruno’s words would have an impact on his older brother.
Not only would he strive to make peace between his older siblings and Bruno. But he would also begin pursuing a career in politics, so he would never send young men to endure what he had, unless the reason was to defend the German Reich and its colonies.
But then again, the Bundesrat only had the power to declare offensive wars, defensive wars were entirely the jurisdiction of the Kaiser. Even so, if he one day managed to rise to the highest ranks of the German government, he would resolve himself never to vote in favor of an offensive war. As the suffering he witnessed during his brief time in Russia was a price that was far too great to ever justify.
