http://youngsoldat.livejournal.com/ (
youngsoldat.livejournal.com) wrote in
trans_92010-02-06 12:07 am
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
Entry tags:
Into the Motherland the Germany Army marched...
Erwin had spent enough time exploring the ship to discover the media library. At first he had spent so much time simply reading books he'd missed or reading new books he'd never seen or heard of before. That had taken time. Then, slowly, his curiosity had turned to visual media. At first he had been amazed and overawed by the pictures produced sixty years in his future - sharp color, focus. Amazing special effects. It all seemed so real to him. His attention had shifted again. His curiosity got the better of him. He began watching old newsreels - German, Russian, American, British - about the war. He'd never worked up the nerve to discover if what Robert had told him about the Jews as true. In a way, he didn't want to know.
Still, he'd eventually reached the end of the war. So he sat, stonefaced, as he watched Germany crumble. When he could, he watched the raw footage. When he couldn't, he watched newsreels. It was depressing in away - to learn how the war would've ended. How the Allies swept over France and the Russians raped and looted their way through Germany. How depressing.
He was watching one of the later German newsreels about Berlin. He sighed softly. Maybe he would never see his homeland again. Maybe that would be for the best. German divided into a communist state and an rump republic? Better then national death, he supposed. He flicked over to another reel of footage. The Battle of Kursk. He hadn't been there, but he'd heard about it. What an utter waste. He leaned forward, watching the black and white footage intently, remembering everything he'd ever done and all that he'd gone through.
Still, he'd eventually reached the end of the war. So he sat, stonefaced, as he watched Germany crumble. When he could, he watched the raw footage. When he couldn't, he watched newsreels. It was depressing in away - to learn how the war would've ended. How the Allies swept over France and the Russians raped and looted their way through Germany. How depressing.
He was watching one of the later German newsreels about Berlin. He sighed softly. Maybe he would never see his homeland again. Maybe that would be for the best. German divided into a communist state and an rump republic? Better then national death, he supposed. He flicked over to another reel of footage. The Battle of Kursk. He hadn't been there, but he'd heard about it. What an utter waste. He leaned forward, watching the black and white footage intently, remembering everything he'd ever done and all that he'd gone through.
no subject
All too soon though the lack of sleep lately started to spread sticky cotton over her eyes and the words began to swim. She yawned and closed the books. Something interesting was happening on one of the spleen-esque couches. Someone was watching an old 2D broadcast. Lines were converging, splitting, merging, breaking apart and coming together in little explosions over a planet she wasn't familiar with.
"Excuse me...I'm sorry to bother you, but what battles are these?"
no subject
"Those are newsreels. From the Battle of Kursk. It was huge battle during the war I was fighting in... I wasn't involved, but..."
He shrugged.
no subject
"They're going to try to cut off that bulge and meet in the middle." She knew this instinctively even before the newsreel started. It was the same plan as Operation Phantom Flame...
no subject
The German kid...no. The German soldier. Almost his own age. Or would be if the timelines had matched up. He stepped over, standing behind Erwin quietly for a moment.
"Shit, they always made everything sound so clean and neat in those."
no subject
"...yes. They always do, don't they?"
no subject
"And it's always the enemy getting it. Not you or your guys."
no subject
He tapped the controller, switching over to... Poland, 1939. "...I thought the war would be over before I ever got involved in it. I was fifteen."
no subject
"You guys did a number on Europe, that's for sure."
no subject
Erwin shrugged. He didn't like the idea that his friends had died in vain. He didn't like the idea that the Hell he'd suffered through had been for nothing.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
no subject
He noticed the flickering black and white images out of the corner of his eye. He looked up, and saw the German man and the newsreels. He recognized some of those images. "It's more likely for a snake to start smoking right now then the Força Expedicionária Brasileira to set out," he said out loud, one of the most common phrases in his own country during the war. He tried to smile at the young man, but it didn't quite reach all the way to his eyes.
no subject
no subject
He could have gone on, but he actually resisted his urge to ramble for once. Mainly because he was studying Erwin. "...You were in the war, weren't you?"
no subject
no subject
He took a deep breath. "Don't worry, I'm not going to judge you. I'd be a hypocrite if I did." He didn't elaborate, but his normal cheery persona was all but gone. He'd seen wars, and done some terrible things, all in the name of keeping the time line running smoothly. Who was he to judge?
no subject
"Did you fight in that battle?" he asked, curious.
no subject
no subject
no subject
He blinked and then offered his hand a bit awkwardly, "Where are my manners? Erwin Fischer."
no subject
no subject
He smiled a bit weakly, "I've never really met anyone like you, I'm afraid."
(no subject)
no subject
Imagine his surprise when he finds old films of them in the Sensoriums. He has the good taste to extinguish his halo as best he can when he enters the theater, to avoid oversaturating the place. He crosses his arms watching the black and white film in a bemused matter before transferring his gaze to the young man watching it so intently. "Does this mean something to you, then?" It's not a hostile question, Apollo's just asking.
no subject
no subject
"You're from the 40s, then? German or...?"
no subject
If he was wearing his boots, he would've clicked his heels. As it is, he just straightens up a bit more.
no subject
He crosses his arms, watching the films play across. "...A Nazi or just a soldier, then?"
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)