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With Blackbirds Following MeThey say that it's the soldiers who spill and see the most blood. I would have to openly disagree. While they're the ones who carry the guns and protect and defend our homeland, did they ever stop to see we're the ones striving to save it? They moan of their friends lost in battles they fought side by side, but they can never understand pains I've known. Emotionless, perhaps I amperhaps I need to be. But inside
Never shall they know the pain of losing a friend as I do. The pain of knowing you were the only one who had a chance to save him. And you couldn't
I glanced over my shoulder at the sound of his voice, the other young medic quickly entering our tent. He wasn't like the other soldiers around here, stiff and serious. Instead, he was carefree and wielded a smile on his face. Though happy to see him, I continue to frown, simply nodding my head to him.
He was a newly transferred boy to the front, and he had taken
Requiem: Chapter 22
Munich, Germany December, 1943
It was around noon when Diedrich, Annemarie, and Fritz arrived at the Fleischmann household. The dwelling was somewhat small, but from what Fritz had stated many times to his friends, it was perfect for his family. The exterior was constructed of brick, a single chimney protruding from the clay shingled roof. Over all, it was a typical town house. Standing on the steps with their bags gripped tightly in their hands, Diedrich and Annemarie watched as Fritz rapped his knuckles against the door, his smile extending. It took a few moments, but once the door finally parted, he couldn't hold his excitement in any longer.
"Mama!" he exclaimed, wrapping his arms around the woman now standing in the doorway.
Her looks practically mimicked those of Fritz: strawberry b
Requiem : Prologue
I still remember that summerthe summer before the storm. Our nation was slowly rising from the ashes of depression, rebuilding itself under the veil of our new chancellor. Adolf Hitler. It was the first time in years we were given hope; a hope which many of us thought had been lost long ago. I was young at the time, fresh out of schooling and looking for a promising career. I spent most of my days beneath the trees in Berlin, sharing the afternoon with the love of my lifesweet Annemarie.
Even then, I had my doubts about the lives we would soon be leading. Annemarie had always been a peace lover. She spoke out against intolerance, violence, and even the army itself. The army into which I would soon be enlisting. Looking back, if I had known our fates, perhaps I would have joined her that day.
Though the summer was clear and our spirits were high as a nation, we never dreamed of the horrors that lie jus
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