Chapter 1
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Ludwig Beilshmidt, 23 years old, Obergefreiter*.
He signed up for the army at the mere age of 19 and fought at the eastern front for three years, moving up in the rank as he did so. All the fighting took a toll on him so he was transfered to Auschwitz which was a combination of a concentration and an extermination camp.
Ludwig, along with two other Obergefreiter* would stand in front of the crowds of Jews who had disembarked,stood on the Judenrampe* and divided them - with the help of other soldiers - into groups of 100. The German would shout, at each and every pack of people; rechts!-to the right or links!-to the left.
Right: Chosen as a laborer
Left: Death in the gas chamber
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Ludwig would do this until he switched shifts at noon. Usually, he would go through five crowds of people from 6 AM to 12 PM and then he would go to the laborer side of the camp and monitor the slaves.
Beschleunigt!
He would yell, occasionally having to jostle someone with the tip of his gun. Sometimes he would find bodies; lifeless and limp, exhausted to the point that their hearts gave out.
The German would order other soldiers over and they would collect the corpse, bringing it to the truck where a mass of carcasses were piled up. They would just throw the body onto it - adding to the mountain of people. Every day the truck would take the corpses to be burnt in a far away place, on the outskirts of town where no one lived.
One day, he'd found a women wailing, leaning over a small girl's body. She continued to weep and caressed her face, rocking back and forth as Ludwig stared down at her.
"Off! Geh weg!*" He shouted, glancing into the girl's glazed over, green eyes. He shouted at her once more but she refused to move, speaking in Hebrew that the German didn't understand. He drew his gun and she kissed the girl's forehead before moving away. Once again, the soldiers came and dragged the body away.
Sometimes Ludwig would find prisoners at the fence at night, using their frail hands to dig their way out. Anyone he found would be executed on the spot. This particular night, he found a young boy; maybe 11, working at the dry ground.
He silently drew the Luger P08 from his holster and held it steady in both hands, finger poised over the trigger as he pointed it at the male's head. The boy turned around and looked up at him, warm brown eyes boring into his own.
Ludwig stared at him, for a split second he felt guilt and his heart softened but he quickly recovered, eyes growing cold again.
"You're not supposed to dig under the fence." He said sternly, the boy probably didn't speak English.
He pulled the trigger.
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These jobs had made him cold and stern. He didn't let anyone in. Ludwig hadn't spoken to his brother, Gilbert since the war started and everyone he worked with was strictly just another soldier. Nothing more, nothing less.
Every Friday and Saturday, he did the night shift; patrolling his 300 metres of the fence, making sure no one was escaping. It didn't matter if they tried anyway because he would get them before they could even slip a finger under the fence.
Sunday he got the day off and slept in since the nights prior he was up until ungodly hours, doing his duty; walking along the fence. If he found someone, he would take out his gun and shoot them between the eyes. That was that.
The rest of the week, he would direct the groups of Jews to the left or to the right; to their death or to work their days as a worthless slave.
When Ludwig first got here, he would never sleep. Images of people with bullet holes in their foreheads would fill his mind. All the innocent people he would murder just because they were trying have freedom. All those boys, girls, women and men he would send to gas chambers.
But now it was simple; he was emotionless and strict. Stoic expressions clung to his face every single day and he didn't give a fuck what people said. He didn't give a fuck about the people he shot, the people he yelled at, none of them.
He didn't care. Or at least he tried.
It was his job and he was there to carry out his duty. He was there to be serious; not laugh and make companions.
Ludwig knew that deep down, he was lonely and depressed. He knew he craved someone to love him and be there for him but that wouldn't happen. Because he was cold and expressionless, he couldn't really be approachable.
It didn't matter anyway because he'd locked his heart away in chains. It was already broken once, he didn't need it again. He didn't need anyone in his life. He was fine and he would continue to be as lived out his life alone.
But one day, he was out in the city with a few other soldiers on their day off and a man with beautiful amber eyes, red-brown hair and a lovely smile came up to him and flicked the cigarette out of his mouth.
"You shouldn't smoke." He said.
One look, one sentence, one smile; it changed everything.
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Translations
Obergefreiter - Senior Corporal (German)
Judenrampe-Jewish ramp (German)
Rechts-Right (German)
Links-Left (German)
Beschleunigt-Faster (German)
Gehweg-Get away (German)
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To be continued...
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Locked Away (GerIta)
FanficSomeone always gets left behind. I don't own Ludwig, Feliciano, Romano, Grandpa Roma, Antonio or any other character from Hetalia; they belong to Hidekazu Himaruya. I only own Klaus, Martin, and Jan.