He kicks down the FRONT door.

Graeber crept forward, the ****-end of his Mauser pointed at the door. He adjusted himself and pressed his hand against the door, finding it firm against his weight. His French was rough, but he spoke. “Ouvre la porte, s'il te plaît!”

He knew his accent was filthy, but he spoke anyway. When nothing happened, he twisted the doorknob and pushed against it. Nothing.

He then pulled. Nothing.

“Fais le maintenant!”

Still nothing.

Now frustrated. Graeber grunted and began to kick the door. The first was solid, but the door was stubborn. The third kick indicated integrity weakness. By the fifth, the lock broke, and sunlight flooded the hall. It took just a moment for Graeber’s eyes to adjust to the lighting. He saw a window first, but when he stepped inside, he saw a bed, a closet, and some other indications of creature comforts. A blue summer dress was laid on the bed, but the owner was nowhere to be seen.

“Hallo? Komm raus.” He said, going to the window. It was locked, so whoever locked the door was still in the room. Outside, he saw the progress of the others and the villagers growing restless. Graeber stepped back and looked under the bed. Suitcases. He pulled them out and found more feminine clothing. The only other place someone could be was the standing closet. “Komm Jetzt raus.”

“Mach das nicht schwer,” he lowered his voice. “Komm raus, bitte.”

The closet creaked slightly. Graeber adjusted himself. “Sprechen sie Deutsch?” He waited.

“Je parle français,” a small voice replied. It was somewhat muffled, but it sounded like a child. “Tu parles français?”

His brain scrambled to translate the words. He thinks they asked him if he speaks French. “Nein. Ich spreche Deutsch. Sprechen Sie Englisch?”

“Oui,” the voice says. “I speak English.”

The voice was accent-heavy, but Graeber understood that better. “Step out of the closet.”

“I am indecent, Monsieur.”

“Indecent?”

“I’m afraid you’ve caught me just as I stepped out of the shower,” the voice said.

Graeber looked at the blue dress and then all the contents of the suitcase. He blushed. “Are you a woman?”

A hand shot out from the closet. The figure behind the door was fair-skinned and had painted nails. “Yes.”

“Es tut mir leid,” he looked down, feeling flustered. “Get dressed and knock twice when you’re done. If you run away, you’ll be arrested, though.”

There was no answer, but when he **** the door shut, he could hear the shuffling of the woman from the closet as she stepped out. In the meantime, he searches the other rooms, finding no firearms. Just a bathroom and another bedroom with the curtains pulled shut.

When Graeber steps out, he tells the others downstairs that he found someone and that he’ll be joining them shortly. But they’re free to continue to search the next house. So they nod and leave, just as knocks emit from the room with the broken door.

Slowly and carefully, he pushes the door open while holding the steel lip of his helmet down slightly. He slowly looks up. He sees bare feet and the blue hems of the dress he saw from earlier.

At the waist, he sees the same hands from earlier too. Now folded nearly in front of their owner. Traveling further up, he sees undone buttons of the dress, teasing a peek at a pair of modest breasts. A slim, curvy figure so far.

Going further up, Graeber sees a pointed chin, trembling pink lips, and brown hair cascading down the shoulders of the woman. Then finally. A pair of stormy blue eyes lock onto Graeber's. There’s no makeup on her face, but on her upper right cheek, there is a little dark dot of beauty.

Graeber, under better circumstances, might have flirted or flaunted his uniform. But now really wasn’t the time nor place.

Graeber sighs. Telling the girl to get out and to join the others. She’s too scared to do anything at first, so he shouts at her to hurry. She yelps in response and repeatedly apologizes in French.

Once she’s finally in motion, Graeber escorts her out of the house and filters her with the other villagers. A petite blonde girl breaks from the crowd and hugs the girl Graeber found, nearly in tears. The girls hug each other and rejoin the crowd.

Meanwhile, it seems the gun grab has gone well. Graeber supposed that the French police records of gun owners helped the Wehrmacht choose this place for a reason. No one is shot, but before the raid is over, there are close to 2 dozen weapons taken away. However, there’s more work to do. The people are questioned and recorded, too, just to make new German papers.

Later that day, once they have exhausted all places, he and his unit are taken back to Paris for some well-needed R&R. There’s still a war to be fought, and the men of the German army need to be rested for the next big battle to happen…

…

…

It was late July, and it was mostly the Luftwaffe that was still being tasked with active actions. Graeber’s unit broke into different sub-groups to do other things, but many chose to sleep.

Graeber’s group consisted of Emil, Lukas, and Gerhard. They’re all dressed in gray uniforms decorated with ribbons and medals. The most decorated is Emil, who is well on his way to becoming a corporal in the Heer. The men just then finish polishing their leather boots when Lukas steps up.

“Wohin gehen wir?” He asks, beaming with a perfect white smile. Graeber regards his friend, somewhat envious of his blue eyes as they twinkle with charm.

“We’re going to look for girls,” Emil says like it was already agreed. “Du Idiot!”

Lukas blinks and then looks at the group like this should be discussed more. “Is that all? A trip to a bar, after all we’ve done?”

Graeber steps out of the building. Night air greets him welcomely. He smiles and exhales, not hearing his German comrades break into friendly arguments about what to do. A girl doesn’t sound bad, but neither does a drink or two from the bar. Perhaps a nice dinner from a restaurant or a simple stroll with French pastries.

He looks over the street, looking at the people as they pass by. Some of the people choose to ignore them, while others shoot displeasing glances or worried expressions. He smiles but feels a little upset that the people aren’t happier to be under a better, more trustful government.

One of the people he spots looks vaguely familiar. It’s only a quick look, but when he squints. He thinks it’s the girl from his mission in the countryside. He intends to follow the girl, but someone grabs him.

“Graeber,” brown eyes bore into his. It’s Gerhard. “What shall we do with our night?”

Graeber blinks, finding himself not wanting to be here all of a sudden. Somehow, it was easier to make decisions in combat now. It is clear he’s about to run out of time, however.