text: Hans lied in the filthy, waterlogged crater. His rifle lost deep in the mud. He felt that his heart was beating hard enough to announce its presence to the whole world, the pounding rain, the whistle of artillery, and the explosions that interrupted his thoughts him wrong and wrecked his ears and body. He covered his ears and clutched his helmet in vain, he still felt the shock through the earth hard enough for it to matter little. For a long time, he felt the pounding artillery and the small crater slowly filling with murky, mucky water was all there was to the world. Then. He heard a cry over the pounding of the colossal drums of war. A thud and the wet scrape of breastplate against the mud and rocks. He wasn't alone in the hole anymore. He turned to face another soldier cowering in the crater. Wide helmet. Long coat. Flat plate. A Federalist covered in mud. Hans unsheathed his knife, lunged at the Soldier, throwing the full weight of his body into the stab. The Soldier rolled aside to dodge his attack and Hans plunged straight into the grubby side of the crater. The Soldier struggled to unsheathe his own bayonet. Hans pushed himself out of the mud, stood up, and took a swing at the Soldier before he managed to draw the blade. He lost his footing on the grimy incline, tripping back first into the knee-deep filth filled water, losing his grip on the knife. the Soldier took the opportunity and jumped on top of him, pinning him under the water. Hans struggled and writhed to no avail, growing desperate, he rummaged through the filthy floor of the crater and cut his palm on something sharp. *The knife!* He took hold of the blade and stabbed at the Soldiers belly, only to hit the metal plate. he tried again, now the upper thigh, and the blade sunk deep into unprotected soft flesh with a sickening *Shink*, he felt it hit something hard and pulled the knife out, stabbed it in, out, back in, and out again in a frenzy. blood flowed free, turning the murky water a reddish-brown. The Soldier howled in pain and clutched his thigh, releasing his hold on Hans. The blood penetrated through the gaps in his grip. Hans surfaced with a gasp, and pushed the Soldier off of him, who fell onto the side of the crater the Soldier grew lightheaded, his blood draining fast. He tried to stand up, but his leg betrayed him, falling onto his hip, he let out a sickening howl that degenerated into a miserable sob. Hans went to finish his opponent off, but he fell onto his knees in the water in a coughing fit. He retched up the filthy water he had inhaled and vomited the meager rations he had wolfed down before the expedition. Once he had recovered from the fit. He looked up to see the soldier in front of him, sobbing in despair, clutching at his bleeding thigh, his whole pant leg was soaked with blood. he got a good look at him for the first time. Thin face, blond hair, green eyes, he couldn’t be any older than him, perhaps seventeen or eighteen, slumped on the side of the crater. “Hjaelp!” the Boy pleaded between a sob. Hans just stared, on his knees in the water dumbfounded. “Oh, God.” Hans vomited until there was nothing left to empty, and then continued to dry heave. “Hjaelp” The Boy repeated hopelessly, his voice growing weaker by the word. “Jag baer dig!” “Mor...H-Hjaelp!” The Boy broke into a weak sob once more. but there was nothing Hans could do. so he just sat there, and sobbed, in horror, soaked in the filthy, bloody water. for a long time, in the pounding rain and artillery. until the Boy could beg in words no more. Hans retreated to the other side of the crater. Still, the Boy stared at Hans, with large eyes full of despair and accusation. eventually, day turned to freezing night and the pounding artillery finally stopped. Hans decided to stay in the crater, for fear of snipers, he had no way of knowing who had won the battle. The cold bit deep, he wouldn't survive the night like this, his uniform thoroughly soaked. He looked at the Boy and morbidly realized the only way he would survive. He crawled his way to the Boy. He tried to move him, but then the Boy, still alive, let out a whimper and struggled against Hans futilely, he was far too weak now to put up any meaningful resistance. Hans began to turn the Boy over to undo his armor. As he lifted the Boy’s hip he let out a weak cry and sobbed once more. Hans broke down too, but did not stop. “I’m sorry.” Hans sobbed The Boy wailed in agony. “I’m so sorry.” he succeeded in pushing the Boy over, who wailed into the mud “Please forgive me.” He struggled to undo the straps of the armor with his numb hands. “Oh, God!” He turned the Boy over again. and was met again with his sobs “Oh, Saints forgive me!” He removed the breastplate and began to unbutton the coat under it. The Boy no longer even had the strength to resist. Hans kept pleading for forgiveness. he wriggled the coat off of the Boy. A pack of cigarettes and a silver locket fell out of the breast pocket. Hans picked up the locket and inspected it. The front read “*För Leo*” in cursive script. Hans decided against opening it. he placed the locket in Leo’s shivering hands now dressed in only an undershirt and soaked pants. Hans draped the coat over himself. Pulled out a lighter, a cigarette from the pack, placed it in Leos’s mouth, and lit it, before lighting one for himself.