Downtime for the time being.

Heavy rain comes in the night. The damaged city does nothing to filter out the water, so many of the men are seeking shelter inside the blown apartment buildings that have hidden Soviet soldiers inside. The first couple of hours are spent in nose-to-nose fighting and warrant one dead recruit and three wounded veterans. Lukas nor Graeber are hurt during any of the engagements, and they are again together inside of a room, joking with each other as they eat out of the can.

“Sie ist so schön,” Lukas says after telling Graeber about his new wife. “Ich glaube, sie würde dir gefallen.”

“Würde sie mich mögen?” Graeber says with his mouth complete.

Lukas stifles a laugh. “Of course, she’d like you. You’re my friend. And, of course, you’d like her. She’s my wife.”

Graeber laughs next. “You haven’t met Kataryna yet, either. I don’t what you’d think of each other.”

“Mm,” Lukas says idly. “I think by now, it doesn’t matter who we meet. We owe each other respect to our loved ones even if we hate them. Secretly or not.”

“I hope we wouldn’t,” Graeber exhales. “We’ve earned ourselves love.”

“We’ve earned ourselves a better life after all we’ve done. This door-to-door horror warfare is taking a toll on my mental health,” Lukas says with a hint of humor, but Graeber knows he’s right. The image of the last man he killed in the stairwell flashes in the back of his mind, and for a moment, he feels the blood and hears the ring of his rifle. “Saw one of those stupid kids grab a Russian grenade and try to throw it today after things kicked off. God damn babies,” he mutters.

“I got stuck with Felix. I’m in awe with how much none of this phases him,” Graeber explains his end of the story. “He’s a machine on that gun, though. He’s quick and can control that beast like God made him with that in mind.”

Lukas then yawns. “God has made the most spectacular fighting machines. I think it’s in our genetics to fight. In some ways, I am impressed with our ability to brawl it out and to test our limits this way.”

“You honestly think that, Lukas? After all this fighting? After all that we’ve seen? You think this is something to boast about?”

Lukas rubs his eyes, smudging the tears from his yawn to go away. He shrugs and then burps. “I think it’s a good thing for people to almost long for this kind of fighting now because humanity as a whole hasn’t learned never not to fight. And what if one day we’re weak and can’t fathom fighting for anything?”

Graeber scoffs. “I didn’t take you as a Greek Philosopher.”

Lukas actually laughs. “You’re the best soldier I know. How many years have we been fighting to some degree? Even if we lose, we better have a reputation that lingers after it’s over. The world was so scared of Germany after the Great War they tried to cuck us, and now we’re back and harsher than ever. Humans are damn good fighting animals.”

“I would have rather not done any of this,” Graeber crosses his arms and leans back into his chair, shooting his gaze out the windows. “I wish we learned our lessons.”

“And yet, here you are fighting for the party. If I didn’t know any better, you’re starting to sound like a defeatist,” Lukas lightly teases Graeber, and they both laugh. “Enough of this war talk. Tell me about Katarzyna.”

“She’s beautiful to me,” Graeber tries to remember her face, but he now finds it difficult. “She’s warm. She’s kind. She’s one of a kind. I want to see her again.”

Lukas slaps Graeber’s knee. “You’ll see her again, I’m sure.”

“I wonder if she’ll ever see me again, though.”

…

…

June 15, 1943.

“Felix wants you.” Heinrich drops into the trench and takes off his helmet.

“What for?” Graeber scratches behind his ear and then stuffs his hands back under his smock.

“We got some POWs coming,” Heinrich farts loudly. “Says there’s some cunt named…Becca or something, I wasn’t really listening.”

Graeber lurched. “Did you mean Natasha?”

Heinrich waves him off. “Whatever. Some Russian bitch. Did the mail come in today, or has that been canceled?”

“Canceled,” Graeber says. “Where’s Felix?”

“That way,” Heinrich points with his head, which could have been pointing anywhere. “Good luck.”

Graeber hastily gets up from his spot and climbs out of the trench to go where he thinks Felix would be. He spots him and several other German soldiers crowding around some prisoners. “Felix!” He shouts, and he turns around.

“Graeber!” Felix smiles. “We found some bitch named Natasha. Did Heinrich–”

“Where is she?” He demands.

“Over here,” Felix guides him, and they circle a girl with red hair. “Is this her?”