he turned to leave, he saw an expression of joy from the men that Otto couldn’t share with them.
As Otto made his way through the small thicket of trees towards the makeshift camp, he came across the child, Kurt Lafenz, hiding in the trees. Otto paused to look at the boy, who was once again crying and shaking. He was holding onto something that looked like a submachine gun. That’s when Otto realized he hadn’t seen him, nor Wernher, moving down for the photo. Otto was about to ask Lafenz what he was doing there, where Wernher was.
But the look of the frightened young boy’s eyes gave Otto a feeling of terror.
❧
Josef Wernher appeared from the trees that neighbored the newly dug trench. No one seemed to notice him, as everyone was too busy looking at Ingersleben’s camera. Wernher tossed a sack between two men; it landed on the back of one of the men inside the hole.
“What’s this?” the man who was hit said, laughing at the gift. He stared at it: it was nothing more than a tan sack.
“Just hold on to it,” Ingersleben said, with a smile of his own.
“Like this!” the young man said, holding the brown bag over his head to the laughter of the men inside.
“No, lower, you fool! Hold it lower!” Ingersleben said, as he turned and began to walk away.
The man did lower the bag, and shared one quizzical look with the other men before the explosion went off, tearing his body into huge pieces, killing him instantly.
The explosion was a strange one as pieces of arms, torsos and heads flew out like a fountain of limbs. Nearly everyone inside was killed instantly.
For the few that did survive the blast, they laid in the ground, stunned by the explosion. Those that could hear heard the muffled gunshots that came from Ingersleben’s Luger.
One man nearest Ingersleben crawled towards him with a hand reaching out to him for help, a piece of grenade in his throat, making it impossible for him to take a breath in as blood oozed out. Ingerslben quickly put that man out of his misery and put a bullet under his eye; half his skull flew towards his lower back.
Wernher was back, this time with his MP 40 machine gun, filling the hole with bullets. He was cool and calm as he killed his friends, making sure to focus the bullets more on those that were injured just outside the hole than those already dead inside.
After just a few moments, there was total quiet. Smoke seemed to be coming from everywhere.
The dead’s freshly opened wounds steamed in the cold air. It was like a small fog from hell had been let loose upon this small corner of earth. Even the smell of sulfur was in the air.
Then, one of the men who was thought to be dead rose from the ground and began to run. He was a bit further in the back with other bodies, but all those were blown to pieces so it was assumed that he was dead like the rest. He wasn’t.
Wernher pulled the trigger to his machine gun, but nothing came out; he was out of bullets. Ingerslben’s handgun was out of reach, so they looked upon the third and final man of their group, young Lafenz.
Wernher made a quick move for Lafenz’s weapon, only to have the child pull the gun away, back into his hands. For a moment Ingerslben and Wernher shared the dread that maybe the young man they had confided in would be the one who would kill them, too. But soon they realized that Lafenz wouldn’t give up the gun because, this time, he wanted to prove that he could handle the weapon, the responsibility that came with it. That he wouldn’t be scared, as he had been earlier at Haas's execution.
He walked slowly in the direction of the fleeing man, who was becoming smaller by the moment. There was nothing around them but clearing and as soon as the running man made the distant tree line, he would be gone.
The noise returned that morning as Lafenz unloaded his weapon’s magazine into the field in front of him. The man dropped as soon as he started firing, but that didn’t stop Lafenz from
As Otto made his way through the small thicket of trees towards the makeshift camp, he came across the child, Kurt Lafenz, hiding in the trees. Otto paused to look at the boy, who was once again crying and shaking. He was holding onto something that looked like a submachine gun. That’s when Otto realized he hadn’t seen him, nor Wernher, moving down for the photo. Otto was about to ask Lafenz what he was doing there, where Wernher was.
But the look of the frightened young boy’s eyes gave Otto a feeling of terror.
❧
Josef Wernher appeared from the trees that neighbored the newly dug trench. No one seemed to notice him, as everyone was too busy looking at Ingersleben’s camera. Wernher tossed a sack between two men; it landed on the back of one of the men inside the hole.
“What’s this?” the man who was hit said, laughing at the gift. He stared at it: it was nothing more than a tan sack.
“Just hold on to it,” Ingersleben said, with a smile of his own.
“Like this!” the young man said, holding the brown bag over his head to the laughter of the men inside.
“No, lower, you fool! Hold it lower!” Ingersleben said, as he turned and began to walk away.
The man did lower the bag, and shared one quizzical look with the other men before the explosion went off, tearing his body into huge pieces, killing him instantly.
The explosion was a strange one as pieces of arms, torsos and heads flew out like a fountain of limbs. Nearly everyone inside was killed instantly.
For the few that did survive the blast, they laid in the ground, stunned by the explosion. Those that could hear heard the muffled gunshots that came from Ingersleben’s Luger.
One man nearest Ingersleben crawled towards him with a hand reaching out to him for help, a piece of grenade in his throat, making it impossible for him to take a breath in as blood oozed out. Ingerslben quickly put that man out of his misery and put a bullet under his eye; half his skull flew towards his lower back.
Wernher was back, this time with his MP 40 machine gun, filling the hole with bullets. He was cool and calm as he killed his friends, making sure to focus the bullets more on those that were injured just outside the hole than those already dead inside.
After just a few moments, there was total quiet. Smoke seemed to be coming from everywhere.
The dead’s freshly opened wounds steamed in the cold air. It was like a small fog from hell had been let loose upon this small corner of earth. Even the smell of sulfur was in the air.
Then, one of the men who was thought to be dead rose from the ground and began to run. He was a bit further in the back with other bodies, but all those were blown to pieces so it was assumed that he was dead like the rest. He wasn’t.
Wernher pulled the trigger to his machine gun, but nothing came out; he was out of bullets. Ingerslben’s handgun was out of reach, so they looked upon the third and final man of their group, young Lafenz.
Wernher made a quick move for Lafenz’s weapon, only to have the child pull the gun away, back into his hands. For a moment Ingerslben and Wernher shared the dread that maybe the young man they had confided in would be the one who would kill them, too. But soon they realized that Lafenz wouldn’t give up the gun because, this time, he wanted to prove that he could handle the weapon, the responsibility that came with it. That he wouldn’t be scared, as he had been earlier at Haas's execution.
He walked slowly in the direction of the fleeing man, who was becoming smaller by the moment. There was nothing around them but clearing and as soon as the running man made the distant tree line, he would be gone.
The noise returned that morning as Lafenz unloaded his weapon’s magazine into the field in front of him. The man dropped as soon as he started firing, but that didn’t stop Lafenz from
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