The Ones That Fell

Chapter Four

The train pulled lethargically on the tracks. Time slowed with it, and it made everyone in the train grow anxious. We were eager to be released from this confinement and continue our campaign.

If only our campaign held onto a clear victory.

The Soviets are pushing out all of our forces from their land, and whoever was unlucky was caught in their trap. There was no way we could return to conquer, no matter how much we prepared ourselves. They ran over us like wildfire, and we barely missed their grip. Yet our train was fleeing so slowly from them.

We entered the Soviet Union with such ease, that everyone was convinced that we would achieve our common ambition; to rid the world of Soviet power. We were confident in expanding the Fatherland, and we were confident with ourselves.

Our chins were held too high before that we did not realize what we were walking over. We were just walking over a sleeping beast. Three years had gone by and now we're back to our starting positions.

The train seats were torn with rip marks and the windows were stained. No one was seated beside me nor across from me. The brass poles that lined the interior of the train stood lonesome. The officers' car was almost empty. Only the Sturmbannführer's voice was heard as he discussed further plans with other men.

The land that had costed us death passed by like nothing. It was difficult to achieve but easy to release. I could see a faint reflection of myself on the window, and I gazed at it. What was left of me after these years of war? What was left at home for me that still remained? The eyes in the glass pane eerily gazed back at me. Why was I haunted by them? Those are my very own eyes. The face in the window was mocking me; I was mocking myself. I brought all of the horror and distress to myself.

"Obersturmführer? Kommen Sie hier!" the Sturmbannführer's voice shook me out from my trance. I stood up and placed my helmet down on the seat, then pleated down my uniform.

I walked to the back of the train, which was where the higher officers were surrounding a large map placed onto a table. They all glanced up from the map. Their faces told me that they were all much older than me. There were even a couple of them that were ranked the same as I.

"Help us plan, will you? Don't be a quiet boy and just sit back there," the Sturmbannführer joked, and indicated his pointer towards the empty seat. I nodded and sat down.

My eyes blankly followed the metal rod as it pointed here and there on the map.

Łódź, Warsaw, Krakow, Lublin.

The talking was heard but I didn't want to comprehend it into my mind. I scanned idly over the names of the cities, the marks that stood for our positions, and the enemies'. We were no longer looking at the map of the Soviet Union.

Suddenly I was staring at the end of the pointer.

"What do you think?" the Sturmbannführer asked. I looked up and saw the Standartenführer with a raised eyebrow, and the Hauptsturmfuhrer shook his head. "Don't tell me you weren't paying attention!"

I sighed and stared at the Sturmbannführer.

"Don't look at me dumbfounded like that! Answer me, what do you think?" the Sturmbannführer said with a raised voice.

"He asked if we should join with the troops fighting in Warsaw, or should we remain in reserve at Poznań," the other Obersturmführer whispered to me. The pointer was handed over to the Standartenführer, and he was awaiting my answer.

"I think we should go to Poznań," I said. "The troops at Warsaw should be able to control the situation going on there."

"We are able to overcome those dirty mites! What gives them the right to turn against us? All they're doing is putting more work on us. They're just fighting for nothing," the Hauptsturmführer proclaimed. "This must be because of the Allies having most of France in their hands. Now the Poles think they can win the war!"