Berlin blood

Midnight. Summer. An abandoned church on the outskirts of Paris. Four men sit in absolute silence and watch the clock as the second hand passes, counting down midnight. And now she has passed twelve, which means the hour has come when everyone will reveal their secrets. Fears. Discontent. And they’ll end it. At this meeting, they all have four and a half hours until first light. Before that they have to settle everything. Afterwards there will be only bullets and corpses. — Midnight. She punched. Who is first? — Paul is the first to break the silence. He knows that he is the director of this performance. And he is also a screenwriter. There are even guests. — You start, Paul. Come on, tell us all what a two-faced idiot you are, who built a captain’s career on the bones and deaths of his friends,” Moritz turns to him. — I? You blame me for your pseudo-death, although you know very well that we are both to blame for this. — Do not lie! It’s a lie. — What lie? Wasn’t it you who always wanted to give your life for us, wasn’t it you who said that you have no one more dear than Rudolf and me? — Paul took out a photograph. Moritz, looking at her, turned away. He didn’t want to see himself happy surrounded by these two idiots. — I am. However, don’t drag Rudolph in. He, just like me, became a victim of your selfishness. — Rudolf? Moritz, tell me, how many times did Rudolph tell you not to be led by your own self-esteem and envy of those who are better than you? How many times has he told you that this will destroy you? How many times has he told you that none of this matters? The only thing that matters is the one who gets you out of a difficult situation. — What did you do? — Moritz grinned. -Did you help me when I was drowning? Did you help me when I was literally at my lowest? Yes, I envied you, I admit, I always knew that you were not worthy of being a captain: you made unjustified sacrifices, you scattered people left and right, if someone didn’t please you, you never communicated with him again. It’s your fault that so many people died, Paul. You are a killer! “We’re all killers, for that matter, that’s all.” You’re a killer too, Moritz. Don’t you remember how you threw a very small boy overboard because you didn’t want to see him on the team? Don’t you remember how you bullied someone of lower rank? How did you shift responsibility? And Rudolph? He always protected you and believed that you were good. Where do you think he is now? “They killed him,” Wilke intervened in the conversation, who the day before received information about Paul’s team and was conducting an investigation. “It’s your fault,” Moritz pointed at Paul. — Yours and no one else’s. If you had pulled me out then, this situation would not have happened. — Don’t you dare shift all the responsibility onto me! You were also on that ship! You too could have prevented everything. — You didn’t give me a choice. I didn’t want to be your subordinate. — If I gave you free rein, you would destroy us all! Wilke and Julian began to get annoyed by this conversation. No one wanted to go that far into the past, much less get into the relationships of old friends and talk. They didn’t know the essence of what was happening, and they didn’t want to waste time. This performance was not worth their time. — Stop! — Wilke shouted, and Moritz and Paul fell silent. -What the hell are we talking about? And don’t say it’s personal. Now this is no longer your personal business, and if you want to end your life with pure souls, then you will have to tell us everything from beginning to end, to the very end. — You will tell this story. I’ll twist everything and say that it’s all your fault, right, Moritz? “I’ll be happy to do it for you, you’re lazy.” — Moritz shifted his gaze. — What should I start with? Hmm, I’ll probably start with the fact that it all started back in 1941, when we all met on the threshold of the college where we were conscripted. — Yes, we were young, and only the wind was blowing in our heads. Pipe dreams of the distant future in which we now find ourselves… — Paul. — Sorry, I’ll just add to it. You don’t speak so nicely. — What am I talking about? Oh yes, we all entered together and ran into each other on the porch of the school. This meeting, as I would call it now, was fateful. My life simply could not have turned out differently. I was a poor guy with a lost past, not knowing my future existence, and then, at the porch, as I approached, these two appeared… “Paul Bernstein and Rudolf Wagner,” Paul lived moment by moment, the pictures stood before his eyes. — Yes exactly. At first I didn’t think how I would get along with the two of them. And I could not imagine that we would become friends in the future. Also…” the man fell silent. — The best, who promise to give their lives for each other. Who will carry out each other’s tasks and help each other. Who will make plans for how after the war they will be friends with their families and live in the same neighborhood. Who will definitely have something to remember when they tell their grandchildren by the fireplace the stories that they brought with them from their youth. — Yes, how naive we were. Paul looked at Moritz. Now anyone was sitting in his friend’s place, but not him, not the person who was his best friend. Now Moritz sat in front of him, his heart filled to the brim with hatred. “We were learning to live then and did not think that friendship would depend on everything in the world except honesty and devotion. At the end of the course, a photograph was taken at graduation, which you took for yourself. Of course, you were the commander, and you still are, Paul. “You yourself entrusted me with carrying our friendship.” You know very well that out of three friends, one of them must be higher than the others and lead, bring order. This is the law, and you can’t rewrite it. You gave me this right. I did not insist on my candidacy. You chose me. — Well, of course, perhaps, yes, but it was a huge mistake, consisting in the fact that we did not go to different ships, but to one. We killed our friendship with rivalry. You were the first to want to be a commander and you never understood what it was like for me and Rudolf, friends who always trail behind you. — Yes, I quickly climbed the career ladder, but I never thought that you were jealous of me. And what is there to envy? Each of us was different and had success where it was needed. — I was a stranger among you. I put more into work and received less. Wilke looked in surprise: — I will be uncivilized by interfering in your conversation, but can I clarify one point? Moritz, you are stupid if you think that only signs and ranks elevate a person. The words of gratitude and the actions you do elevate, the thoughts and what you can give to the world elevate. Yes, your work may have been small and you did not value it highly, but perhaps no one could have done this job as flawlessly as you. You found your place, but didn’t realize that this is it. You began to encroach on what was not yours, and that’s why you fell into the abyss of despair. — Don’t interfere! Who are you anyway? You came for Paul, so shut him up! — Moritz, you should listen. He speaks his mind. You were not the best, but you had something that neither I nor Rudolf had — an unoccupied soul and pure thoughts. You glowed from within, you were like a ray of sunshine on a ship, even in the worst weather you could warm your soul. Remember: every time something bad happened, you always smiled and were easy-going, for you there was no such thing as “it’s hard for me” or “this is not for me.” — Do not dare! Don’t you dare remember me as a weak little boy who believed in the best. Don’t you dare compare me to the weakling I was. — But you’re not weak, damn it! You were stronger than all of us combined. Both Rudolf and I were jealous of you, because it was you who brought us together. I was in charge and managed our team, you united it, and Rudolf always made peace. How blind do you have to be to not understand this?