Tilted Axis

Chapter:23

                                Killua POV

Date 18.9.1939
          Another execution carried out by my hands in the town of Błonie. 50 Jews in a mass execution. I feel less of it this time but it is only a quarter of those killed in Złoczew. On a better note our advances have succeeded. We are now just 15 kilometers away from Warsaw. The last few days the poles have been in a near constant state of retreat. Their attempts to retreat to Warsaw has caused their death toll to continue to increase. We have established howitzers on the bank of the Vistula. The poles attempts at evacuation have all but ceased as a result. The fire of canons on their location has gone all day.

    I put down my pencil and rub my face with my hands. The past few weeks have not been kind. Near constant fighting since invading Poland. But that isn't what weighs on my heart. No, simply the families I've destroyed.

    Since the execution at Błonie, they've begun to establish the town as a POW camp. So why did those people have to die when we could have just placed them in the camp as well?

"I wonder if dad and grandpa were executing civilians when they were on jobs. I wonder how Illumi is holding up now that I think about it." I mutter. I know he's part of one of the panzer divisions but I don't remember which one. If he was part of the 4th there's a chance he's dead. We lost 80 tanks from that division during the assault.

I hear the flap of my tent rustle and I turn around to see Kurapika standing with a metal tray that holds a pair of mugs and a pot. "I've brought some coffee sir. I thought it might help after hearing canons all day."

I nod. "Thank you Kurapika. You know you don't need to refer to me as sir. I may be your superior but we have known each other long enough for you to call me by name. Before you argue I know what was taught at the academy, but I'd rather hear my own name so I know I'm still human."

"Of course, Killua." He says taking a seat at the table next to me.

"Let me ask you something Kurapika. How are you holding up?"

"I'm not sure what you mean." He replies pouring the coffee into the metal mugs. What I would do for some sugar or fresh cream for it. He slides a mug to me.

"To be blunt genosse, mentally. How are you? We have been at war nearly three weeks and we have taken part of the genocide of almost three hundred civilians. Doesn't that bother you?"

"Well I suppose. But I do as I'm ordered." I hold up a hand cutting him off.

"I want your full honesty. Talk to me as a friend. Do you still hear their screams when you go to bed at night? Do you feel their blood on your hands? The look in their faces as their life drained away."

He takes a sip from his mug and sits silently for a moment. The only sound is the howitzers and the wind. "I do. When I joined the service and was selected for the SS, I was doing it in hopes of serving my country. We go to war with an enemy that's fine. The execution of civilians however....how does that help? We killed families Killua. I try not to show it but it hurts. Some of the men seem to take full pleasure of it." I watch him carefully. His body is visibly trembling. Either from the cool of the air or anxiety.

"I was trained as mercenary all my life. Mercenaries are meant to be hired and do as ordered. Most times it's simply to aid in a war. I trained on innocent men in the ways of torture and interrogation. Yet that didn't bother me. I was taught to view them as a potential enemy with information I need. The screams those men let out as we broke them never stuck. Perhaps because they were poor men. Living in the streets. No home. No family that cared about them. By torturing and even killing them, was I really doing any harm?"

I drink some of the coffee grimacing at the bitterness. "My father and grandfather would spin these great tales of their time in war. I wanted to experience one myself. Those old men really glorified them. Now I have seen civilians killed by my own hands. Men I've trained bleed out next to me as I keep fighting. I feel no pleasure killing these men. They are just one in a sea of countless others. I don't feel as if I'm doing something good for Germany. I feel as though I'm just causing atrocities."

The blonde male nods his head. "And this is very likely just the beginning. This conflict will get worse. That should be obvious. The casualties will be massive."

"From the way my father would talk, I'm a Zoldyck. It will take more than a war to kill one of us. Every day this war goes, I feel as though he's wrong. We aren't any different than a regular man. Just more experienced training. Any man can get injured just as easy. The wound get infected and they die. Any man can be put down with a single well placed shot."

I tilt my chair back, balancing on two legs. My white hair had grown longer and sits more in my field of vision now. Doesn't look so white now. Caked with mud and dirt. Even some blood specked on there. None of it my own.

   "You said for me to call you by name so you know you are still human. Would you care to go more in depth on that?" Kurapika asks.

   "I feel it should be obvious. I don't feel like solider. I don't even feel like a mercenary. We marched into the country by the orders of the Füher. Yet within the first few days of the attack, we marched into a town and instead of rounding up civilians, we killed them. Cut their throats, blasted holes in their heads with rifles and pistols. Tore their bodies to shreds with machine gun fire. We burned them and their homes with flammenwerfers. Feels like the actions of a monster. A beast. Is a soldier supposed to kill a man with no mercy? To kill the women and children without a glint of doubt in him?"

    "Hundreds of years ago the term of a mercenary was different. They were more like bounty hunters. Doing jobs. Moving from place to place. Then that term changed. Mercenaries became weapons of war. They chose this as it payed even better, to work almost like a private army." I say reciting words told by my father. "My father believed a mercenary was meant to be without mercy. It wasn't part of the job."

   I tilt my head back, my hair falling away from my face. "Do you think you would be fine if we weren't killing civilians?" Kurapuka asks.

   "I'm not sure. But what else are we to do? Gute Soldaten gehorchen Befehlen." I drop my feet from the table letting the chair come back forward. "It's not our job to question what we do at the end of the day. If someone wants to question it will be the one above me or someone above him. I'll do as ordered. Much as I may not like it, I grew to be a man who obeys."

    I figure if I just follow orders, I'll get through this. Well, I will survive that is. Treason or questioning of orders can lead to death.