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Title: Black Edelweiss (Interlude)
Series: Zeitgeist
Follows: One Giant Leap
Wordcount: 1,050
Details: Minimal details due to inflation. Full details in main post.
PREV: Chapter Four // MAIN // NEXT: Chapter Five
Konrad & Fritz—Konzentrationslager Auschwitz, Poland; December 1944
"Lächel bitte, Kunz," Friedrich Stahl shouted smugly as he saw his friend approach. "Ich möchte es gern sehen."
Konrad sighed, breath steaming in the chill air. He obeyed the request, though, drawing down his lip to expose the gap left behind by the two teeth he had lost from his lower jaw. The empty sockets were tender and still seeping, and he couldn't help but run his tongue over them with a grimace. Friedrich—Fritz—shook his head with a laugh.
"All courage and no caution, as plain as that scar on your face," he said, lapsing into English with a grin. "You know, if you can't stay out of trouble, I wouldn't be so worried about getting cleared to return to combat. You'll only wind up right back here."
Konrad let the comment roll off his back.
Earlier that morning, he and Fritz had managed the transfer of a handful of new prisoners, among them a young woman named Ruth. He had listened with half an ear to the story of the incident back in Berlin, the guards in charge of the transport sharing it eagerly to pass the time. He wasn't the first guard to have suffered the wrath of the woman's hard kick to the jaw—rumor had it she had gotten those strong legs as a dancer before the war. Still, Konrad felt he had been lucky. He had only lost a couple of teeth, after all. From what he had heard, the cocky Sturmmann in Berlin had also lost half of his tongue.
"Hopefully next time you'll remember not to drop your guard," Fritz said, running a gloved finger along his own cheek to mimic the shape of the scar on Konrad's left, "and think twice before tangling with the tooth-fairy."
Konrad snorted and ignored him. He was thinking about Ruth, still. A lot of the prisoners he had seen since his own transfer to the camp had given over a part of themselves, had it eaten away by the short, grim lives they now faced. Looking into their eyes, it was almost as though they were already dead and their bodies just hadn't realized it. Many, though, still held on firmly to whatever small scraps of their dignity they could. They were still human, because they refused to let themselves be made anything else.
Ruth had been different, though. There was a fire that had blazed in those dark eyes, unlike any eyes he had seen among the prisoners in this place. It was a fire of fierce pride—of spirit that wasn't simply enduring but that had, despite all she had endured, somehow remained untouched. Seeing it had left him chilled...
Konrad couldn't even see that in his own eyes anymore.
"Do you ever think..." he began softly, hesitating. His eyes roamed over the expanse of the camp, and he forced himself to see every bit of it, feel for a moment the horror that would creep in whenever he really let himself think about what they were doing. If he couldn't trust Fritz with the question, there was no one he could. "Do you ever think about how if things were different, it could just as easily be us?"
"It could certainly just as easily be you, Kunz," Fritz said, "if any of the officers noticed that wandering eye of yours."
Konrad's words and tone had taken nothing away from his mirth, and in spite of himself Konrad gave a faint laugh.
"I just like to look, Fritz," he said, a faint smile pulling the corner of his mouth as he glanced at his friend. "I like women just fine, and I know better. "
"Anyway, it's just as well you're the only one who has noticed," Konrad continued, lightly, almost playfully, though he was unable to keep the curiosity out of his voice, "since I'm the only one here who speaks English well enough to notice the inconsistency of your accent."
Because Friedrich Stahl claimed to be an American Volksdeutscher from Oregon, heeding the call to return and fight for Germany. And most of the time he managed to maintain that story admirably. It was only when he spoke English that he occasionally betrayed himself with a thread of British accent creeping in. Konrad didn't know what reason Stahl might have for lying, or what could possibly motivate an Englishman to join the SS. Konrad didn't even know why he hadn't reported his suspicions. And now it had somehow become just another game between them, like their multilingual conversations or sparring off-duty to retrain strength into Konrad's injured shoulder.
"You do have a commendable ear for the King's English, Kunz," Fritz allowed. "I dare say if you ever found yourself in London you yourself might easily pass for...Welsh. Maybe Irish."
Konrad responded to Fritz's smirk by flashing a two-fingered gesture that was in its own way very English.
"Hell, you might even want to consider it," Fritz said, his good humor collapsing with a sigh. "The way this war is turning. We both very well might end up in a camp like this very soon, what with America in the war now."
"I knew that pact was a joke," he continued bitterly, real anger seeping into his voice. "Take my advice, Kunz: Never trust the bloody Japanese."
"Do you really think it's that hopeless?" Konrad asked, curious of Fritz's opinion, since they were being so honest.
Fritz didn't answer. His attention had shifted to a group of children being lead across the compound. Or, rather, to the other man who watched them being lead. The doctor. Konrad shivered.
"There's something sick about that man," Konrad said quietly. "Why are you so fascinated with him?"
"Have you heard about the work he's doing?" Fritz answered, his voice just as quiet. "Studying anomalies of human heredity, trying to solve the evolutionary puzzle posed to us by Darwin. Imagine the kinds of things he might discover, Kunz. Perhaps your Übermensch."
Konrad didn't respond right away.
"He could find the cure for death," Konrad said finally, "it wouldn't matter."
"Back home, my father warned me before I enlisted about the evils he saw in the first war," he continued, gravely. Konrad wished so badly that he'd listened. "And when I first saw combat, I understood what he meant. But I don't care. I can't wait until they put me back on the lines, Fritz. I don't care if I die."
"I didn't know what evil was until I saw this place. I'd give anything to be able to leave it..."
PREV: Chapter Four // MAIN // NEXT: Chapter Five
Translations:
"Lächel bitte, Kunz." - "Smile please, Kunz."
"Ich möchte es gern sehen." - "I really want to see it."
Series: Zeitgeist
Follows: One Giant Leap
Wordcount: 1,050
Details: Minimal details due to inflation. Full details in main post.
PREV: Chapter Four // MAIN // NEXT: Chapter Five
Konrad & Fritz—Konzentrationslager Auschwitz, Poland; December 1944
"Lächel bitte, Kunz," Friedrich Stahl shouted smugly as he saw his friend approach. "Ich möchte es gern sehen."
Konrad sighed, breath steaming in the chill air. He obeyed the request, though, drawing down his lip to expose the gap left behind by the two teeth he had lost from his lower jaw. The empty sockets were tender and still seeping, and he couldn't help but run his tongue over them with a grimace. Friedrich—Fritz—shook his head with a laugh.
"All courage and no caution, as plain as that scar on your face," he said, lapsing into English with a grin. "You know, if you can't stay out of trouble, I wouldn't be so worried about getting cleared to return to combat. You'll only wind up right back here."
Konrad let the comment roll off his back.
Earlier that morning, he and Fritz had managed the transfer of a handful of new prisoners, among them a young woman named Ruth. He had listened with half an ear to the story of the incident back in Berlin, the guards in charge of the transport sharing it eagerly to pass the time. He wasn't the first guard to have suffered the wrath of the woman's hard kick to the jaw—rumor had it she had gotten those strong legs as a dancer before the war. Still, Konrad felt he had been lucky. He had only lost a couple of teeth, after all. From what he had heard, the cocky Sturmmann in Berlin had also lost half of his tongue.
"Hopefully next time you'll remember not to drop your guard," Fritz said, running a gloved finger along his own cheek to mimic the shape of the scar on Konrad's left, "and think twice before tangling with the tooth-fairy."
Konrad snorted and ignored him. He was thinking about Ruth, still. A lot of the prisoners he had seen since his own transfer to the camp had given over a part of themselves, had it eaten away by the short, grim lives they now faced. Looking into their eyes, it was almost as though they were already dead and their bodies just hadn't realized it. Many, though, still held on firmly to whatever small scraps of their dignity they could. They were still human, because they refused to let themselves be made anything else.
Ruth had been different, though. There was a fire that had blazed in those dark eyes, unlike any eyes he had seen among the prisoners in this place. It was a fire of fierce pride—of spirit that wasn't simply enduring but that had, despite all she had endured, somehow remained untouched. Seeing it had left him chilled...
Konrad couldn't even see that in his own eyes anymore.
"Do you ever think..." he began softly, hesitating. His eyes roamed over the expanse of the camp, and he forced himself to see every bit of it, feel for a moment the horror that would creep in whenever he really let himself think about what they were doing. If he couldn't trust Fritz with the question, there was no one he could. "Do you ever think about how if things were different, it could just as easily be us?"
"It could certainly just as easily be you, Kunz," Fritz said, "if any of the officers noticed that wandering eye of yours."
Konrad's words and tone had taken nothing away from his mirth, and in spite of himself Konrad gave a faint laugh.
"I just like to look, Fritz," he said, a faint smile pulling the corner of his mouth as he glanced at his friend. "I like women just fine, and I know better. "
"Anyway, it's just as well you're the only one who has noticed," Konrad continued, lightly, almost playfully, though he was unable to keep the curiosity out of his voice, "since I'm the only one here who speaks English well enough to notice the inconsistency of your accent."
Because Friedrich Stahl claimed to be an American Volksdeutscher from Oregon, heeding the call to return and fight for Germany. And most of the time he managed to maintain that story admirably. It was only when he spoke English that he occasionally betrayed himself with a thread of British accent creeping in. Konrad didn't know what reason Stahl might have for lying, or what could possibly motivate an Englishman to join the SS. Konrad didn't even know why he hadn't reported his suspicions. And now it had somehow become just another game between them, like their multilingual conversations or sparring off-duty to retrain strength into Konrad's injured shoulder.
"You do have a commendable ear for the King's English, Kunz," Fritz allowed. "I dare say if you ever found yourself in London you yourself might easily pass for...Welsh. Maybe Irish."
Konrad responded to Fritz's smirk by flashing a two-fingered gesture that was in its own way very English.
"Hell, you might even want to consider it," Fritz said, his good humor collapsing with a sigh. "The way this war is turning. We both very well might end up in a camp like this very soon, what with America in the war now."
"I knew that pact was a joke," he continued bitterly, real anger seeping into his voice. "Take my advice, Kunz: Never trust the bloody Japanese."
"Do you really think it's that hopeless?" Konrad asked, curious of Fritz's opinion, since they were being so honest.
Fritz didn't answer. His attention had shifted to a group of children being lead across the compound. Or, rather, to the other man who watched them being lead. The doctor. Konrad shivered.
"There's something sick about that man," Konrad said quietly. "Why are you so fascinated with him?"
"Have you heard about the work he's doing?" Fritz answered, his voice just as quiet. "Studying anomalies of human heredity, trying to solve the evolutionary puzzle posed to us by Darwin. Imagine the kinds of things he might discover, Kunz. Perhaps your Übermensch."
Konrad didn't respond right away.
"He could find the cure for death," Konrad said finally, "it wouldn't matter."
"Back home, my father warned me before I enlisted about the evils he saw in the first war," he continued, gravely. Konrad wished so badly that he'd listened. "And when I first saw combat, I understood what he meant. But I don't care. I can't wait until they put me back on the lines, Fritz. I don't care if I die."
"I didn't know what evil was until I saw this place. I'd give anything to be able to leave it..."
PREV: Chapter Four // MAIN // NEXT: Chapter Five
Translations:
"Lächel bitte, Kunz." - "Smile please, Kunz."
"Ich möchte es gern sehen." - "I really want to see it."
