My Enemy Is My Savior

Chapter 31 (Part III) - Friedrich Müller

Part III

The battered, churned up land scarred with the atrocities that both our soldiers and the Red Army had once caused. Natures wounds were now being treated with frozen tears of the early December. The white sky matched the earth, bringing us darkened memories of the winter war. We had thought that it'll be our only winter war. I rested in my top cot and felt the vibration rumble from underneath.

"Men, we're in Russia now. A few more days at least and we'll be at our destinated stop," Oberleutnant Eichel stated. He wanted to ride in the same car with the men of his platoon until we arrived at our departing station, and so we allowed him in after the partisan attack.

Torsten laid in his bunk that is vertically from mine, caressing his rifle while watching the frozen wasteland passing by. A bandage wrapped around his head and wounded eye, leaving little room for bare flesh to be exposed. Slight hint of red appeared underneath the bandage.

The iron horse's travel to Russia was wavering. As the result of the latest partisan onslaught, we have been heightened to our senses. Unfortunately, Oberleutnant Eichel informed us that another train from our division was also assaulted. The losses were great as an artillery car unit was lost, including its commander. Thus, the tailing armored trains and its panzergrenadiers lagged further behind from the checkpoint. I heard that other infantrymen who were ahead of us had already reached their stop just a few days ago.

I sighed and clouded myself with thoughts of the march towards Moscow and the withdrawal. The incoming realities of war returned instantaneously, and the thoughts of paradise in France became easily forgotten. Dwelling on the loss of former comrades and current ones became unbearable. The Final Victory managed to sever the bonds of many brothers.

I looked at the empty faces around me. Are they pondering about their fate once we reach Stalingrad? It seemed almost impossible to think of surviving Ivan's War again. We all barely subsisted, as the others were unfavored in the eyes of destiny.

I turned back to prospect the painted scenery through the frames. The unending landscape of white brush strokes and dotted tree lines made the majority of the composition. In the negative space, the lightest of all colors circled above the forest. Just then the artist stippled his canvas with a fine brush, leaving behind dark brown marks; a herd of reindeers trudged through the snow, like we have on the retreat.

Siegfried gathered his belongings from his cot and exited the tent while I followed behind.

"I guess this is will be our last encounter for now?" Siegfried asked, his face fell with somber. "I am glad to see you again, Friedrich. When I was with you I felt like as if I were home."

A kubelwagen was parked nearby the command post with the driver present. We went over to it and Siegfried opened the door that led to the passenger's seat. Before he climbed in, he held out a hand. "Farewell for now, my friend. We shall meet again."

I grabbed his hand firmly and shook it. Siegfried released his belongings and swung his arms around me. "We should return to Duisburg together," I said. Siegfried gave a reassuring grin and stepped back.

"Good luck," he stated. "I'll be painting a moose on my plane hopefully. Look out for it whenever you hear a drone of a fighter plane!" I laughed and he picked up his belongings, setting them in the kubelwagen.

"If we survived the Russians then I am sure we will survive the war," he said one last time, and the kubelwagen drove off. I stood alone in the middle of the field, watching as the vehicle became more distant. I felt as if a part of home has left me and I thought of my late parents.