Heimatfront Episode Two - Baptism of Fire

The Fateful Patrol

IV

THE FATEFUL PATROL

He sensed the cold air blowing against his face, making him wish the sun was still in the sky. Unfortunately, all he had was the night and the sporadic drizzle, which soaked his coat and covered his steel helmet with cold droplets. None of it made any easier to see whatever enemy movement might be in that area. That was as far as his patrol would go, Corporal Eren Jäger decided. For the most part they hadn’t even seen anything worth of reporting during the whole assignment. They’d heard the occasional airplane flying overhead, invisible in the dark, but nothing out of the ordinary. Even the road they were walking along had been completely deserted.

Evidently that Eren could understand the importance of keeping regular patrols around the headquarters. There were reports of enemy paratroopers being launched all across the region, probably recon missions in preparation for the eventual crossing of the river Elbe, and there could be other movements, cutting through the German lines. Colonel Messner was playing smart, he concluded. As soon as Jäger or other patrols saw anything, they would immediately relay the fact to the command center. The enemy would not catch them with their pants down.

The young corporal turned to his comrade, Grenadier Armin Arlert. The blonde teenager seemed distant, something that wasn’t all that unusual for him. He was a deep thinker, or something that would pass for that in a young man of his age and time. Sometimes even Eren could become weary of listening to him talking about philosophy, military science and the misery in which the Wehrmacht found itself. Of course, no-one would call him on that, not in the unit of Colonel Messner at least. They were all way beyond politics by that point.

“I think we should start heading back.” Eren said to his friend. His eyes deglazed as his mind came back to the here and now. He glanced at Jäger.

“Wha-what?”

Eren snorted. Sleeping on his post… typical Armin.

They’ve known each other since they were small children. How much would that account for? Ten years or so? For teenagers who were barely beyond their sixteenth birthdays that was an awful lot of time. Young lives who barely remembered the time before the war and who had volunteered and joined the Army, just a year ago, because they felt that there wasn’t anything left for them in an annihilated country led by madmen.

“What were you thinking about, Armin? You know we should be scooping for enemy troops.”

“Y-yes… I know that.” The blonde boy replied. “I was thinking about the enemy paratroopers other units have been seeing… They must be trying to open the path for the armor units standing beyond the Mulde.” The river Mulde was one the Elbe’s greatest tributaries, just west of their position. “If we don’t do anything they will have an open path to Berlin. We cannot let that happen, not on our area.”

“Worried with the unit’s honor all of a sudden?” Such meager things like honor or prestige weren’t really of Armin’s concern. He was all about efficiency and properly defeating the enemy. Even the Colonel sometimes asked for his opinion, even being he as young as he was. Those words didn’t suit him at all.

“That’s not it.” Armin glanced down, his eyes focusing on the Schmeisser machine pistol in his hands. “It’s just… This is our land, Eren… We shouldn’t let the invaders conquer it without a fight.” He shrugged. “Feels wrong, you know?”

Eren turned back, giving a few steps backwards while staying alert to his surroundings.

“I feel you, Armin. And I agree. The bastards who burned Dresden and Leipzig driving down to Berlin without taking a sweat? Not going to happen.”