All Nonfiction
- Bullying
- Books
- Academic
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Heroes
- Interviews
- Memoir
- Personal Experience
- Sports
- Travel & Culture
All Opinions
- Bullying
- Current Events / Politics
- Discrimination
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Environment
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
All Hot Topics
- Bullying
- Community Service
- Environment
- Health
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
- Back
Summer Guide
- Program Links
- Program Reviews
- Back
College Guide
- College Links
- College Reviews
- College Essays
- College Articles
- Back
Blood,Sweat and Bruno
FLASHBACK- Polish Raid 1939
“When this is over I’m going back to Hamburg and me and Heidi are going to find a house and make a family.” Said Bruno over the static receiver. “What if this is never over?” I said. “Everything has to end……………. Eventually.” he said with the fear, anticipation, and hesitance clear in his voice. “Well what if you end before the war, then what?” I asked. I knew better than to ask that question, every soldier knew better …that question was like salt in an already gaping and bloodied wound but I couldn’t stop myself from asking the hope crushing question. “I BET YOU TEN DOLLARS I’LL LIVE THROUGH THIS ONE!!” yelled Bruno through the static receiver. “You hear that Alois?!...Bruno has always got himself in some kind of bet.” I joked playfully through the radio at Alois. “Ya ya get it together boys ...I heard the troops were having trouble with Poland, we’ve got orders to drop havoc on them . So we do not have time to slack off listen carefully only bomb the areas marked off on the map no tricks, no fun, no games just drop and get the heck out of here. Yes?. Ok then. GET READY FIRST TARGET IS COMING UP ON THE LEFT!” commanded Alois. “Ja” said Bruno and I in unison.
Bruno never made it back to Heidi or the hanger that day. During that night raid he was unexpectedly shot down by a Polish bomber. He would have survived but the bullet shrapnel shot through the center of the seat ejector and jammed the button so there was no way for him escape he was pulled down with the bomber and swallowed whole by the dark black abyss of the cruel Baltic sea . In that short terrifying moment I truly understood this terrible war or at least the cruelty of this dark reality we lived in.
You see the only reason I signed up to fight in this war; this mass murder I should say, was to prove my existence as a man, to prove to myself I could be strong, and be just like the super heroes in the morning newspaper comic strips. The ones who always save the day and always win no matter how stacked the odds were against them, I just wanted to feel invincible, untouchable and unbreakable, it was a imprudent reason I presume; quiet childish actually, but nothing like Bruno’s reason.
Bruno had to join the army it was hit only choice to survive and if he didn’t join he was either a fool or just plain genius. He had needed the money after his dear sick wife Heidi had fallen cripplingly ill after her third miscarriage and was reduced to being bed ridden until they could afford the treatments; if any, for her recovery. Just getting the measly crumbs of bread and few dozens of potatoes on the dinner table was hard enough for him and her, constantly stealing and lying to friends, neighbors and even family. So he resolved to join the armed forces for Germany, he chose to participate in this mass genocide just to keep his dying wife alive. Even though he did not like Hitler or violence he held up a good act and kept his hopes high. If it weren’t for my forgetful ways and merciful judgment Bruno would have probably been another scrimpy soldier to me.
I remember whenever we sat down to eat during our training camp lunches he would steal my sandwiches while I searched pointlessly for a fork which I never seemed to remember to grab off the kitchen counter. Eventually I got smarter and Bruno got lazier and I caught him stealing my food, I’m sure any normal cold hearted soldier would have thrown the ratty boy across the room like a rag doll and wrung his neck like a washing cloth, but I didn’t. I mean I couldn’t, if you saw Bruno you wouldn’t either, he looked more on the adorable 15 year old side of his life rather than the stunning young brute end. He had dark chocolate hair that had over grown a bit too long and hung in loose greasy shags over his huge almond shaped hazel eyes that were shadowed over with thick dark lashes. His eyes seemed a bit too close to his round button nose and pale dry lips that sat in a pouty thin line. All fixed upon a round pearl like face that had the complexion of alabaster paper. His scrunched face sat atop a small slender body that looked like he hadn’t eaten in months or rather years. He looked the equivalent of a sad lost puppy that had been kicked too many times and needed a home more than a no good thief.
So instead of beating him to death I decided maybe he could eat himself to death and get some bulk back in his body. I took him out to a reasonable sized diner that served every flavor of pie and any burger you could think of. Although the prices were a little unfair it was worth it because if I had not done such a thing I would have never known the witty, exciting and daring Bruno I know now... or knew then.
I remember the night Bruno died we sat in our quarters quietly awaiting to be called up to the hanger he pulled a chair up to my bed and told me that if he didn’t make it out alive he wanted me to tell Heidi she had permission to find someone else to make her happy and he told me to give her every cent of money in his savings account to pay for the treatment. So as my final thanks to him I mustered up the courage to drive down to his homeland of Hamburg to pay Bruno’s debt to Heidi and tell her the news of her husband. When I arrived the town was demolished, better yet obliterated into thousands of scrambled pieces of homes and stores.
As described to me by Bruno the house was supposedly a pale shade of blue with big mustard yellow french doors. Surrounded by a cherry oak wooden fence and a neat little garden of closely tended herbs and spices. But the house I saw looked nothing like that there was no big yellow French doors but dank, drooping black cloth that served as a door. Instead of the beautiful cherry oak fence there was only a small few of wooden planks tied by cheap chicken wire surrounding the remains of the “home”. The small cottage leaned lopsided to the right and the roof caving in with mold crawling up the side like hands desperately latching to the dry splintering wood. It was simply dead, the house was dead and I was afraid that what had lived there was dead as well.
In my brief astonishment I noticed an old woman totter by so I decided to ask where the resident Heidi might be living and she scowled a scowl that was nor angry or envious but a heartbroken and confused one. She shakily pointed a boney finger toward a large granite stone in the ground with a grieving face. As she turned her back and labored away she said “Take what you want Nazi boy, we are not Jews nor are we gypsies why must you kill such a poor, poor girl? What is the meaning? This war what is it for?!?” she ask accusingly as her rickety voice raising an octave at every word. I responded by saying proverb I was taught at camp, “To rid the world of its impurities, to ready the world for the Führer’s control.” I recited numbly. “Do you think us to be impure?! You boy are impure, killing, burning, slaughtering our brothers and sisters for your own terrible reasons! You should be ashamed; the only thing you deserve is the cruelest death!” she scolded as she turned swiftly on her heel and hobbled away.
As she finally disappeared from sight I cautiously slid toward the large rock unsure of what answer I was sure to find. I took notice of the freshly turned up dirt and the writing engraved on the large boulder. Then it hit me like a wave of rushing water in a storm Heidi was dead, gone with the house most likely. She was probably bombed and could not move to shelter fast enough because she was bed ridden and died or her sickness may have finally gotten the best of her.
I didn’t understand anymore they said the war would give us a new start and put things back in order but there was no order here or anywhere else. All there is death, destruction, sadness, tragedy, and pain. They said we were fighting the bad guys, the unworthy ones but was Heidi a bad guy?! Was an innocent young bed ridden woman who waited hopelessly for her husband to come home and save her an unworthy person? Was I the bad guy? Was I the one who caused all this death and destruction? Was Bruno, poor innocent Bruno the bad guy? I didn’t know anymore all I knew was that life would be better without this lie called war.
Without the refuge, the pain, the death, destruction and fear the war caused. The world would be a better place without war in fact the world would be a greater stronger place without this terrible war. If it never existed maybe Bruno would still be here, maybe Heidi would too. They could have had a family and Bruno could have bought Heidi the medicine she needed to get better. Without the war here my family could still be alive. Countless lives could be returned and saved. No more hardship and scrutiny “Without war the world could be a better place” I thought to myself slowly. I reluctantly dragged myself into the old home each step feeling heavier and heavier like being pushed down into a deep pool of pain and sorrow. I finally reached the porch and opened the small dark curtain and my heart sank…. I looked around and saw quite a scene, pictures of Heidi and Bruno holding hands, Heidi in her wedding gown the two of them running down a hill of flowers together.
I couldn’t do it anymore, I had no reason to go on I had no reason to live or any right to. I had killed so many innocent people without so much as a second thought. I could feel tears burning at my eyes and my hands began to shake as I broke out into a cold sweat. I pulled the gun out of my back pocket and looked at it carefully, all the people who I had killed with this weapon, all the innocent people. I pulled off the safety and placed the pistol on the side of my soft left temple. “You know you’re going to die anyway why not go out with a bang” I thought to myself I took in a sharp intake of air and squeezed my shaking hand hard on the rusted trigger……
Similar Articles
JOIN THE DISCUSSION
This article has 0 comments.