>As always, take was what helps and ignore the rest.
>I’m trying to give better crits so if it seems too
>picky, just smack me and tell me to get over it.
>;-)
Okie dokie. Can I just tell you to "Get on wi' it!" like in Monty Python and the Holy Grail??? :-P
>
>Summer, 1932
>
>
>Heinrich stood awkwardly with his new Mauser shotgun.
>He had just seen his father, with his arms around
>another woman, go into the barn. Wow, talk about
>blatant. Can’t his wife see him if she’s looking that
>way? Yup. Quite frankly I don't think he cares too much about his wife. Before the barn doors closed, his father
>looked him right in the eye, I think you can drop
>that comma. Lord know I love my commas too! If it was up to me, I'd probably end up putting a comma in every other word. and
>grinned. Heinrich’s father had been going to show
>Heinrich how to shoot. It did not look like that was
>actually going to happen. The sentence seems a
>little awkward. Maybe something like “It did not seem
>like that was going to happen/his father was going to
>teach him anything/phrase of your choosing now.”
>
> He saw his older brother, I think you can lose
>the “He saw his…” part and use “Wilhelm was standing
>on the porch smoking” or something. We know it’s
>Heinrich telling this story. Okay. Will change. Wilhelm, standing on
>the porch lighting up a cigarette. Their mother did
>not allow Wilhelm to smoke in the house whenever he
>came home. Wilhelm was in his plain working clothes
>today, not like yesterday when he arrived at their
>grandparent’s farm. So that’s where they are? Maybe
>you could mention that earlier, unless this is stated
>in a previous section we haven’t seen.
This is the first scene of the book actually. I'll see if I can fit the mention in a little sooner. He arrived
>in the all black uniform of a Gestapo police officer.
>Their mother almost had a heart attack seeing him
>dressed like that. Wilhelm said it was only temporary,
>and that he hoped to be transferred to a different
>unit soon.
>
>Heinrich was glad that his older brother was home for
>a little while. Now, he had someone to talk to who
>understood him. He gripped the shotgun tighter in his
>hands and strode over to the porch. Heinrich watched
>as Wilhelm took a long pull on his cigarette and stood
>up When did he sit? Woops! In my minds' eye I see him sitting, so I probably forgot to actually put that in. to stretch, lifting his
>long arms above his head and standing on his toes.
>Wilhelm finished his stretch and looked down at
>Heinrich standing a few paces away from him.
>
>“Will? Can you show me how to shoot?” Heinrich turned
>pleading eyes up to his brother’s face. Is Will a
>common nickname for Wilhelm in Germany? I ask because
>I don’t know. Will sounds so…English to me ;-) I'll ask my sister-in-law or ask my Mom to ask the German teacher at her school.
>
>Wilhelm took another pull of his cigarette and
>considered his brother. POV shift. Aak. I thought I was getting better at not doing that. Ah well. I fix it. Heinrich’s
>blue-gray eyes were softly pleading, much like their
>mother’s eyes. Wilhelm stared down at the ground,
>making Heinrich wait for a response. What does
>Heinrich do? Squirm? Shift? Hold his breath? Show
>us?;-) Hmm. I'm not sure what he does. I'll have to ask him. He probably did not do what I did when my Dad showed me how to shoot a couple of years ago. “Sure, little brother. Do you have shells
>with you?”
>
>Heinrich nodded enthusiastically and showed Wilhelm
>the pouch of shells he had gotten with the gun.
>Heinrich raced ahead to the back yard and showed
>Wilhelm where he had set up some old cans and bottles
>on a low tree stump far from the house and barns.
>
> “Well done, Heinrich. Let’s get started.”
>
>Heinrich blushed and followed Wilhelm to a spot fifty
>yards away from the tree stump. Wilhelm grabbed an old
>bushel basket and turned it upside down in front of
>Heinrich. Wilhelm knelt next to Heinrich, emptying the
>pouch of shells on the bucket in front of them.
>Wilhelm took the gun from Heinrich and opened the twin
>barrels for loading.
>
>“Now, watch this Heinrich. Do you see how I am loading
>the shells in the barrels here? Yes? Good. Okay, next
>we bring the barrels back up, and make sure you hear
>the click as they reconnect to the stock. Then we
>bring the hammer back, like this. Watch how I am
>holding on to this. I have it tight against my
>shoulder, my elbow up, and my cheek is right against
>the stock here. Now, cover your ears, this is going
>to be a bit loud.” Show us what Heinrich is seeing,
>what he smells, (the sunlight on the blueing on the
>barrels, gun grease, sulfur from the
>powder?)feels. Okay. Will do. Wilhelm fired a shot at the tree
>stump and knocked one of the cans off.
>
> “Wow, Will! Can I try it now?”
>
>“Sure. Try to hold the gun like I just showed you.
>Yes, that’s right. Your elbow is a bit too high there.
>No, no it’s too low. Yes, just like that. Now,
>visualize your target on the stump. The sights on the
>gun will help guide you. Place the sights right on
>where you would like to hit. Okay, are you ready? The
>gun kicks back some, so be careful. Now, just cock it
>back. Good. Put your finger on the trigger and just
>pull it back.” Heinrich was not prepared for the jolt
>as the gun went off in his hands. He jerked it wildly
>as the force of the shell leaving the barrel drove the
>stock out from the grip in his shoulder to swing up
>and hit him in the nose with a resounding crunch.
>
>Wilhelm heard the crunch as the stock met Heinrich’s
>nose. There’s that POV shift again.;-) And OUCH!
>Having been kicked in the face by a horse many years
>ago, I can sympathize! Oh pooh! Yeah, I had an immage of my brother when he came home from having surgery on his nose. He got hit with a soccer ball at really close range and it broke his nose. He couldn't breath at all through his nose and so when he had the surgery I was the lucky one who got to hand him fresh gauze every minute or two. I think he bled all day and most of the night. Yucky!! Blood gushed out in a
>flood. Wilhelm quickly took off his shirt, wadded it
>up and pressed the cloth under Heinrich’s nose, while
>tipping his head back. “Well, little brother, I think
>we need to work on your control of that gun, hmm? Come
>on, up you come. Let’s get you cleaned up some before
>Mama sees you.”
>
>Wilhelm led Heinrich back up to the house, keeping his
>hand on Heinrich’s over his nose. Their mother was not
>to be seen in the kitchen. Wilhelm sat Heinrich up on
>the wooden table in the center of the kitchen and took
>the blood soaked shirt away from Heinrich’s nose. A
>small stream of blood still trickled down. His
>nostrils, lip and cheeks were all covered in crusting
>dark red blood. His nose was bent at a slight angle.
>“I think you broke your nose Heinrich. I’m going to
>set it back into place, alright? This is going to
>hurt.” Does Wilhelm know what he’s doing? Is
>Heinrich going to just sit there and let him do it? It
>hurts, a lot. Wilhelm knows what he is doing. He's done it a couple of times at least. Heinrich trusts his brother. Rather misguidedly in my opinion, but what the heck, I'm just the author. ;-)
>
>Heinrich let out a cry as Wilhelm put both hands on
>his face and put his nose back. They both heard the
>sickening crunch as the bones broke again. Probably
>cartilage, but it still sounds horrible, especially if
>it’s happening in your own head. Plus if it was
>broken, it’s going to bleed like hell for a good
>while. Looks like someone’s been slaughtered. Trust me
>on this.;-)
>
>Their mother came bursting into the kitchen then at
>Heinrich’s pained cry. “What in God’s name is going
>on here?” She took in the sight of the two boys, one
>with blood all over his hands and the other with blood
>smeared all over his face. And his clothes,
>probably in his hair, sprayed down his chest… Good point!!
>“Heinrich! What happened o you?”
>
>Mother rushed over to the sink to get a damp rag to
>wipe Heinrich’s face. As she was smoothing his blond
>hair across his forehead she looked over at Wilhelm,
>who was wiping his own hands on another cloth, and
>asked softly, “What happened Wilhelm?” It’s a hard
>habit to get away from, but such dialogue is often
>stronger without prompts like “asked”, “said” etc. It
>doesn’t always work, but I think it would do well
>here. Is her voice frightened, or accusatory, or
>something else. If Heinrich is telling this story, is
>he worried his big brother will get scolded for him
>getting hurt? Maybe it’s just me, but I like a glimpse
>into what the speaker is thinking or feeling as well
>as what they say and do.
Okay. Got it. Thinking and feeling, coming up!
>
>“I was showing Heinrich how to shoot, Mama. The recoil
>shocked him, I think, and he got his nose with the
>butt of the gun,” Wilhelm said simply.
>
> “It’s true, Mama. Will showed me how once, and then I
>tried.”
>
>“Be more careful next time Heinrich. Be grateful that
>it isn’t your father trying to show you how. He showed
>Will how, and almost got him killed,” Mama scolded as
>she put the rags in the fire box of the stove. Shaking
>her head fondly at her two sons she went back out.
>She’s not going to fuss? Take a look at Heinrich’s
>wound herself? Why or why not? The evidence of a
>broken nose will stick with him for a week or better.
>He may end up with both eyes blackened as well.
Mama doesn't fuss for some reason. I can't figure it out, but she seems really detatched from her sons. Yes Heinrich will have two black eyes for a couple of weeks or so.
>
> “How did Papa almost get you killed?” Heinrich asked.
>
>“Well, my shot ricocheted off a glass bottle I was
>shooting at and it hit me on the chest
>here.”Wouldn’t a glass bottle shatter? It could
>ricochet off what the bottle was on, though That's true. It would shatter the bottle, but it could ricochet off of the metal tub it was standing on. Okay, I will change that right away.
>Wilhelm showed Heinrich the scar on the right side of
>his chest, right below his collar bone. “We were
>standing way too close to the target. The hole was
>clean, the doctor said, when he took the bullet out of
>me. I still have it. This is all I have. From him,
>anyways.” Wilhelm smiled at Heinrich, a wry twist to
>his lips.
>
>“Want to practice some more? Or have you had enough
>excitement for one day?” Since Wilhelm was the last
>one to speak, this can stay with the previous
>paragraph, I think.
>
>“I think I’ll stop for today, Will. I don’t know if I
>like shooting at all.”
>
>Wilhelm laughed and said, “It’s a necessary thing to
>know, Heinrich.Why? I think Wilhelm is thinking that Heinrich needs to know how to shoot if they live on the farm for any length of time. To shoot at small game and the like for food. We’ll practice some more
>tomorrow.”
>
>
> January, 1942
>
>
>Heinrich stepped off the train, hit immediately with a
>blast of cold air. He looked around trying to find
>anything that looked vaguely familiar to him. It had
>been three years since he had last stood on this
>platform. Back then he was courageously looking
>forward to heading off to a glorious war. To
>distinguish himself valiantly on the front lines and
>make his brother proud of him. It was to Wilhelm that
>he was heading now. But Wilhelm himself was no
>whereone word ‘nowhere’ to be seen. Being a
>Kommandant of a camp probably meant that Wilhelm had
>sent somebody to pick him up. A young man suddenly
>appeared at Heinrich’s elbow.
>
>“Herr Hauptsturmfuhrer Heinrich von Keiter?” At
>Heinrich’s nod, the young man continued. “Herr
>Kommandant sent me to bring you to the camp, sir.”
>
>“Lead the way, then.” Heinrich said, gripping his bag
>more firmly and following the young man to a waiting
>car. Would his driver have taken the bag for him?
>If he outranks the driver maybe? I don’t know.
Yes indeed. The driver should do that! Thanks!
>
> The young man opened Heinrich’s door for him and then
>hurried to get into the driver’s seat.
>
> “How long will it take us to get there?” Heinrich
>asked as he settled into the spacious back seat.
>
> “About three hours from here, sir.”
>
> Well, Heinrich thought, this camp must be in the
>middle of nowhere for it to take three hours to get
>there. Heinrich took his hat off and turned so that he
>could look out of the window at the passing
>countryside. In Finland, when he had left there,
>everything had been covered for months with a thick
>layer of snow and ice and bitter cold. A bit of an
>awkward sentence. Maybe something like “When he’d left
>Finland…” Okay. I'll play around with that sentence a bit. He was thankful for the move south to
>slightly warmer temperatures.
>
> Snow covered the rooftops of the farm houses they
>passed by. The snow here was lighter, easier to deal
>with, and Heinrich felt better being in it. It was the
>type of snow he had grown up with, soft and fluffy.
>
>Two hours passed by swiftly as the car moved past snow
>covered forests, hills, villages and towns. Only once
>did they have to pull over for a convoy of trucks full
>of soldiers to move through. They were stopped at a
>checkpoint and the guards were checking Heinrich’s
>orders that the driver had handed them.
>
>Off in the distance, on a bare expanse of a hill,
>Heinrich could see a group of people being marched at
>gun point by four soldiers. Heinrich couldn’t see the
>group of people clearly, but it looked like women,
>children, and maybe a couple of elderly men. The group
>was right at the edge of the forest when they stopped.
>The soldiers arranged them in a line, and then
>Heinrich saw the soldiers shoot them all, including
>the children.
>
>Heinrich lurched out of the car suddenly. He ran to
>the side of the road and threw up in the ditch. One of
>the guards came over to him. What an awful thing to
>see. But having been at the front wouldn’t he have
>seen collateral damage from the war moving through? I
>understand this was deliberate execution, not people
>caught in their homes, but a horrific death is still a
>horrific death.
Heinrich saw some horrific deaths at the front, to be sure, but I think the deaths of civillians really shocked him. He didn't see much, if any, when he was at the front of this happening.
>
>“Are you all right, Herr Hauptsturmfuhrer?”
>
>Heinrich gagged and took a drink from the flask the
>guard offered him. Thankfully it was water and
>Heinrich rinsed his mouth to get the terrible taste
>out. Heinrich asked quietly, “Did you see what
>happened on the hill over there?”
>
>“Oh, that. Just another execution. Even with all the
>rules and regulations, the damned Jews won’t leave
>unless we force them to.” So flippant. It’s
>frightening to think anyone could be this casual
>toward death.
Yeah. I know. I shocked myself when I wrote that.
>
>“Even the women and children?” Heinrich asked, still
>bowed over in front of the ditch.
>
>“Of course. Everyone must be gone from the towns, who
>are undesirables. Didn’t you know about that law?”
>
>“I’ve been at the front for three years. We don’t hear
>anything about the new laws up there. Not unless it
>has to do with how we do things there.” Good
>contrast between the guard’s nonchalant attitude
>toward the killings and Heinrich’s shock.
Thank you!
>
>“Well sir, your papers check out. You’d best be on
>your way.”
>
>“Thank you.” Heinrich said as dignified as he could.
>He made his way back to the car and settled himself
>back in, not looking at the hill where the murderers
>were putting dirt over the bodies of the slain.
>
>Heinrich was deeply shaken. He had, of course, in his
>time on the front, killed men. The killing that he
>had done though, was in self defense. If he had not
>killed the men coming at him, then he would surely
>have been killed instead. Killing men who were
>threatening to kill you first was an acceptable thing
>to do, to Heinrich’s way of thinking. Killing
>defenseless men, women and children however was
>completely barbaric. He always thought that women and
>children were not to be harmed in war and that they
>should be kept as far from harm as possible.
>Sometimes accidents occurred but you were not supposed
>to go out on purpose to harm women and children. He
>decided that he would talk to Wilhelm about it when
>he arrived at the camp. Okay, I see his viewpoint
>now. Good. I’ll shut up now ;-)
>
>His driver did not look back at him. He just continued
>on his way as if nothing had happened. They were
>driving through open country now. Forest lined both
>sides of the road for as far as Heinrich could see in
>front of him. About twenty minutes down the road, the
>forest abruptly stopped. Flat, treeless land where
>nothing grew spread across the land on both sides. Off
>in the distance a long plume of fire and smoke spread
>into the sky above. Huge towers rose up at intervals
>along a fence of some sort. The fence
>appeared to have three layers with the width of a man
>in between each layer. The buildings behind the fence
>were immense and made of brick. The other side of the
>camp appeared to have a series of low buildings in two
>rows of four. Probably where the prisoners were
>housed, Heinrich thought. Rail lines came right
>through the camp. A train was just pulling out. Steam
>bellowed out of the stack as it came to life again.
>Hundreds of people stood in the yard, waiting.
>Soldiers, prisoners? What did they look like, what
>were they wearing? Ah. These are plain clothed civilians, still in their jackets and finery, not knowing that they would be put to death in just a little bit.
>
>The car took a turn in the road and Heinrich could no
>longer see what was going on in the camp. The car
>parked in front of a large house. The driver came over
>and helped Heinrich out of the car. He ushered
>Heinrich up the front walk to the door. He knocked
>briskly and waited. The door “was” opened
>slowly by a man in a tattered suit. He urged Heinrich
>into the front hall.
>
>“If you will wait here a moment, sir, the Kommandant
>will be with you presently.” The man bowed deeply and
>left Heinrich in the hall. Heinrich admitted to
>himself that he did not know what went on at his
>brother’s camp, but he could sense that whatever it
>was that went on behind those fences, was not anything
>to be proud of. He had always been sheltered from the
>idle gossip about the mass killings at the front and
>it appeared to him that he had been kept in the dark
>about the happenings at the camps as well. Well, now
>he was going to get the truth brutally shoved in his
>face whether he liked it or not. Heinrich only hoped
>that he could at least get through it. I see the
>lights are starting to come on for Heinrich. Poor guy.
>I feel for him, especially with his own brother
>running the show. Yeah, he is realising that the stories he was told don't quite live up to the reality.
>
>Heinrich put his bag down and took his coat off
>setting it on top of his bag. He took his hat off and
>put it under his arm. Heinrich then settled himself
>into a plain wooden chair that was set next to an
>equally plain table being the only furniture in the
>hall. He tipped the chair back onto two legs and
>closed his eyes.
>
>“Well, now. Who do we have here? Looks like a
>bedraggled soldier from the front. He certainly can’t
>be my little brother.” Heinrich slowly opened his eyes
>to see Wilhelm standing across the little table from
>him.
>
>“I’m sorry Will, I must have dozed off.” With
>Wilhelm outranking him, would he have had to rise and
>salute first, then be brothers? Some people/societies
>can be twitchy about proprieties.
Since this is Wilhelm's home, I wanted him to greet Heinrich as his brother, not as his superior. When they are actually in the camp, they observe propriety.
>
> “Never mind Heinrich. It’s wonderful to see you.
>Come with me.” Wilhelm left Heinrich no option but to
>follow him into the house.
>Nice excerpt! The background helps lay the story
>out. Heinrich is more sympathetic in my eyes than the
>last time. I can better see where you’re trying to
>come from with him. This has the potential to become
>quite a compelling story and I look forward to the
>next installment!
>Hugs,
>Debi
Thank you Debi for your time on this one! At first I didn't have the shooting scene with the brothers, but then I thought, if I want to truly show Heinrich in a sympathetic light, I really needed to.
So, thanks again, and I hope to have more sometime soon!
