This is War [ONC 2021] // Honourable Mention

Chapter Eighteen - Kurt

Christmas approached and bought with it a sharp drop in temperature and an increase in the amount of mud in the trenches. With a promise of the war being over by Christmas starting to ebb away, morale in the trench dropped and not even letters from home could help to boost the men's mood. Kurt felt the drop in morale more than anyone else, although he tried not to let on to the other men.

He found that his hands had taken on a permanent shake. He jumped at the slightest noise and spent most of the night staring up at the roof of the dugout, listening to the other men snoring around him. No one seemed to have noticed his overall drop and he tried to act as normal as he could in front of the other men, although it had become a lot harder to do so over the weeks. Kurt had wanted to go to war to come back a hero, but now he was praying for that wound that would send him back home.

The closer the Christmas period came, the worse Kurt felt. He missed being home with his family, setting up the Christmas tree and trying to find out what gift Hans had bought for him. When he signed up, he thought he would be home in time for the celebrations, but that hadn't been the truth. Instead, he was stuck in a cold, wet, and muddy trench surrounded by men who needed a wash It certainly didn't feel like Christmas.

When Christmas day arrived, Kurt was surprised by the amount of Christmas greetings being yelled between the two trenches, as though everyone had forgotten the war was even going on. Although he appreciated the slight uptick in morale due to the holiday season, Kurt had buried himself in the dugout and just stared at the photograph of his family. He didn't feel like he could share a Christmas greeting with anyone if he couldn't share one with his family.

"You should come and see this," Johannes said, poking his head into the dugout. He had been on guard duty that day.

"If it's Wilhelm turning his eyelids inside out, I've already seen it."

"It's not, come on."

Kurt swung his legs over his bed and sighed, jamming his helmet onto his head and following Johannes out of the dugout and into the main trench. Several of the men in the Regiment were scaling the walls of the trench with a weapon slung over their shoulder and with no sign of an impending battle.

"What's going on?" Kurt asked.

"A temporary truce, for Christmas."

"The Hauptmann agreed to that?"

Johannes shrugged. "No one knows. It's been happening up and down the line."

"Odd."

He placed a hand on his uniform pocket, feeling the metal disc he had taken from the soldier's body along with the photographs. For a few months, he had been trying to find a way to send the photographs and the disc back to the man's family but he had yet to think of away. If he could come into contact with a British soldier, he might be able to get them home, if not, at least he tried.

Together, Kurt and Johannes scaled the wall of the trench and walked out onto the vast nothing that divided the two trenches. Men were emerging on the other side of the trench, approaching people and striking up a conversation that never would have happened a few days before. They were exchanging photographs, rations and even small talk. Not one person lifted their gun, not one person tried to start a fight. It was as if the war had never even started.

Kurt walked across the field, dodging the wire and trying to keep his hands from shaking too much. Johannes peeled off to talk with one of the British soldiers whilst Kurt kept walking across. He went through every possible scenario, every possible way to explain to the British soldier how he came to be with the disc and the photographs. Part of him hoped they wouldn't ask too many questions, he felt guilty enough without someone making it worse.

With his hands knotted in front of him, Kurt approached one of the British soldiers. Although the soldier had his helmet pulled low on his head, he could wisps of dark, curl hair poking out from underneath it. The soldier had to be the same age he was, although he looked to be taking to war far better than Kurt.

"Merry Christmas," the soldier said.

"Merry Christmas." Kurt winced at the sound of his voice and the broken English.

"I never thought I would see the day I was meeting a Hun on the battlefield without a gun raised."

"Me neither." Kurt cleared his throat. "I have something, from a soldier on your side. I thought his family might like them back."

"Really?"

"Ja." Kurt reached into his pocket and pulled out the disc and the photographs, handing them over to the British soldier.

"I won't ask how you came to be with this, but I will thank you for letting us return it to his family." The soldier reached into his own pocket and pulled out what looked to be a chocolate bar. "In the spirit of the giving season."

"Danke."

Kurt took the chocolate bar and tucked it into his pocket. He didn't think he deserved it, in fact, he wouldn't have blamed the soldier if he had swung up his rifle and shot him where he stood, but he didn't. Instead, the two exchanged a few more words before going their separate ways. Kurt returned to the German trench, hoping he had done the right thing by returning the photographs and the disc.

Although he handed them over, it didn't help to alleviate the guilt that continued to eat away at him. That guilt would never leave him, he knew that, but he was determined to never kill another man if he could help it.

War wasn't going to ruin him.

~~~

First Published - February 25th, 2021