The Rain

Bundesarchiv

"Hartmann! Tryb! Get that machine gun to the front! A little rain isn't going to kill you!"

Feldwebel Krausse was enjoying himself. The day had dawned hot and dusty, as hot and dusty as the two weeks leading up to today. Krausse was tired of eating dust, tired of feeling as if his brain was cooking inside his skull. This rain, this blessed rain.

He looked to the sky and let the rain wash his face of the dust and grit which seemed to fill every pore. He shook his head, remembering his dog doing something similar when she would run out of the small lake near his home. Of course, his military haircut precluded water spraying from his head as it sprayed from her long hair.

She had been a great dog. His parents had brought her home as a small puppy when they had moved to the countryside. Father no longer was a policeman in the big city, now he was responsible for a small rural county where the only crime ever committed was someone being late with his taxes.

But his dog, he had named her Schatzi,¹ was his boon companion, she was more of a friend to him than any of his human acquaintances. He grew up with her, from the age of seven she had been with him.

She had lived a long and happy life, the day he had received his draft notice to report to the labor corps, to be followed by two years in the army had been the day after his dear Schatzi had died of old age.

His parents were distraught at his having to report for national service, he didn't care. His beloved dog was gone, what did it matter what he did from this day forth?

Now here it was, nine years later, he and his comrades were marching into the Soviet Union in the largest land invasion of all time. So he liked to think.

"Krausse! Halt the platoon, tell the men to prepare rations, we're going to be here a while!"

"Jawohl, Herr Leutnant!"

As the men moved off the road, Krausse got them organized, had the squad leaders take charge as he went with the lieutenant to see the company commander.

"How about this rain, Feldwebel? Feels good after the heat and the dust, ja?"

"Yes Sir, though the dust in my uniform seems to be turning to mud now, it still feels good."

When they arrived at the company CP, the lieutenant said, "Take a break Hermann, be back here in 30 minutes. Go for a walk, enjoy the scenery."

Having been given the liberty to roam, Krausse, of course, found a spot under a tree and sat down. Pulling his notebook and pencil out, he decided to write a letter home.

As his pencil was poised over the paper, he reconsidered. Putting the notebook and pencil away, he just sat there, watching it rain. He let his memories fill his mind ...

He thought about home for a moment, his mother and father, his sister, and his late brother, killed in action in France. He missed them. Then he thought of his old dog Schatzi, God how he missed her.

As a tear slid down his weather-beaten cheek, he stood abruptly and stepped out from under the tree and into the rain. Looking heavenward once more, he let the rain wash his tears away. A moment of weakness he wouldn't let his men see. But he allowed himself to remember, just for a moment.

Then he heard what sounded like thunder, then he realized, the rain had stopped, that was artillery. He sighed, he'd best collect his officer and get back to the men.

For a moment he looked to the sky and whispered, "I miss you, you lovely old dog you."

"Krausse!"

"I'm right here, Herr Leutnant."

"Let's go, sounds like Ivan is trying to make a stand."

"Right Sir, the Panzers take ground, we kill the guys they bypassed."

"No glory for the infantry, eh Feldwebel?"

"No Sir, no glory."

Just blood, he thought.

Eventually the rain would wash that away as well.

¹ Honey, or darling. A diminutive form of the word Schatz.

Author's Note: I felt the need to exercise my imagination, and to perhaps let some painful memories be washed away in the process. No, it didn't work.