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„What are you going to do when you grow up?” A young child sits with his best friend in the woods after playing for most of the day together. They are barely ten, still innocent and wide eyed; fascinated by every little bug and stick they find in the mud, playing make belief and tag, chasing each other around and squealing in happiness and the blissful existence of being children.
“I don’t know,” his friend answers, kicking his legs on his perch up on a fallen tree trunk. “Maybe I’ll be a police man and arrest all the bad men.” His eyes light up in excitement. “Or I’ll be a soldier like my grandpa! You know the one that fought the French in Sedan! I’ll be a hero just like him!”
His friend tilts his head in contemplation. He isn’t as sure as his friend if being a soldier is really what he wants. He’d rather study butterflies, write and sketch all day than being a soldier. But he also doesn’t want his friend to leave him all alone.
“I don’t know Albert, wouldn’t you rather stay here?” His voice is soft and unsure, afraid of being rejected by his friend. “No, I want to do something big, and serving our Kaiser and Vaterland will give me that opportunity! Who knows, maybe we’ll have our own war to prove ourselves! Then I’ll show everyone that I am capable of being a hero like my grandpa!” He giggles gleefully.
Paul sighs. He still can’t understand his friends reasoning, but his mother taught him to be nice, even to stupid people like his best friend. “Whatever makes you happy, but I still think your dream is dumb.”
Albert jumps down from the log and punches Paul in the arm. “That is for calling my totally cool dream stupid!” He sticks his tongue out and runs off deeper into the woods, Paul hot on his heels. Their laughter echoes through the trees and paints the perfect picture of childhood innocence.
After chasing Albert for some time, Paul gets so lost in thought he doesn’t notice his friend stopping, before crashing into his back and falling on his butt. He rubs his forehead and the newly forming bump, before indignantly looking up at Albert.
“What was that for?!”
Albert cuts him off immediately with a finger on his lips. “Shh, do you hear that?”
Paul quiets and listens. He strained his ear s and suddenly he heard it. It sounded like soft crying, coming from a bit to the right. He looks wide eyed at Albert, asking a question just with his eyes. Albert nods.
Together they sneak into the direction of the crying and discover a small boy sobbing on the forest floor, covered in dark bruises and seemingly lost. Paul immediately feels sympathetic and runs to him and kneels next to him. The kid startles and flinches away in fear, lifting his arms to protect his face from any potential hits.
Paul, oblivious to the cause of the child’s pain extends a hand and introduces himself. “Hello, I’m Paul! Who are you?” Timidly, the other child brings down his arms and looks at Paul with tearful eyes. Shakily he reaches for Paul’s hand and takes it.
“My name is Ludwig.”
Paul smiles widely. “Hello Ludwig! Nice to meet you! That over there is Albert, my best friend.” Albert waves awkwardly, still not quite sure what to make of the situation. Ludwig waves back shyly.
“Now that we’ve introduced each other,” Paul continues. “We can ask the big questions.” He turns expectantly to Ludwig and with an exaggerated tone of voice asks: “Do you want to play with us?”
Ludwig lights up immediately and nods enthusiastically. He had never been invited by other kids to play with! Paul grins and extends a hand, helping Ludwig up.
After a day spent roaming through the forest and playing anything imaginable with their new friend, Paul makes a suggestion: “What if we make a promise to always stay together?”
Albert nods while Ludwig smiles brightly. Paul stretches out his hand in front of him and gestures the others to put their hands on top of his.
“With this oath we promise to always stay together and protect each other, because we are best friends and best friends always stay together! Albert, Ludwig do you swear to keep this oath until the day we die?”
With bright smiles they answered: “We swear!”
The summer only got better when they met Franz and he joined their rag tag group. He, of course, also swore to keep the oath. Their future never seemed as bright as in that moment.
~**~
It was getting hard to breathe. From the stab wound in his chest blood was oozing down the front of his uniform; every time a ragged breath was taken more flowed out. He knew he was dying, his rattling breaths making it clear to every medic passing him. He was not going to make it out alive. And that at the end of the war.
He had come far. At least in comparison to his friends. His friends...
Paul lifted his shaking left hand and pried his buttons open, reaching slowly into the pocket inside. He felt around for a bit and finally found what he was looking for.
A photo.
He stroked it slowly, reverently. It showed the faces of people long dead and gone, but still his family in anything but blood.
Staring at him were the innocent and glowing faces of his dearest friends, untouched by war, violence and hunger. It felt as if there was an impenetrable veil between that time and the now he was trapped in.
Paul remembered the photo being taken. It was the day before they enlisted, still in their boyish suits He looked at their faces and all he could see were the ways they died; betrayed by their naiveté and empty promises.
Albert: Burning.
Ludwig: Leg blown off during a bombardment.
Franz: He didn't even know.
Paul: Stab wound to the chest.
How cynical to add himself to the list of the dead, but what else could he do? He was dying that was a fact as sure as the earth being round and the sun shining.
Paul felt himself grow weaker by the second. The faces in the photo were blurring, their innocence taunting in the wake of their gruesome deaths.
Stroking over them for the last time, Paul closed his eyes and let out a soft breath. His chest didn't move again.
Their hopes and dreams died with the young boys on the muddy fields somewhere in France, never to come true. Their promise to always stay together shattered under the weight of the war.