Berlin blood

The days were mixed into one continuous mess. Every hour there were explosions, tactics changed, shells fell, and soldiers died. Gunther no longer understood anything. Where to shoot, where to fly, what goals to set for yourself? He saw many corpses, many dead souls. He saw the faces of young guys who went to retake Berlin, having no idea what awaited them. The last days, which followed the Fuhrer’s birthday, were especially difficult. Most said that everything would end soon, but Gunther understood that the end of their torment awaited them only when the main demon of the Earth, Hitler, died. Gunther thought that Hitler could become anyone, but chose such an immoral profession as politics, because of which he now had a trail of blood trailing behind him, from which he would never wash himself off. Gunther looked up at the sky. It darkened and gave off some kind of unpleasant, sickening green color. The city has turned into ruins: a little more and Berlin will raise the white flag, and the winners will celebrate their victory. What about the losers? Will they really be stigmatized for the rest of their lives? Gunther contacted the general, who ordered the last divisions to be sent. Gunther wanted to object, watching how the young boys of about nineteen huddled together. He did not want to send them to certain death, because he knew that they would not be able to do anything. But he did not dare disobey the order. While his power is alive, he can easily be put on trial, which Richter really didn’t want. He promised Ilsa that they would escape, which means he had something to lose. He gave the order, gritting his teeth, and his heart bled at the sight of the sad faces of the young soldiers. They saluted him and went into battle like brave warriors. Gunther himself rushed in small dashes to headquarters to report on the fulfillment of the general’s whim. He came into the room all dirty, with dried blood on his chin. The general was sitting at the table, and he looked as if he was waiting for Gunther any minute. -Did you send them as I asked? “The man asked in a commanding tone. Gunther nodded. My throat is dry. “Yes,” Lieutenant Colonel Richter answered hoarsely, “I sent them.” And, honestly, I think that they will be shot on the ground. They won’t even have time to take off. — The man looked at the general with sadness in his eyes. “We’ll see,” the general answered indifferently, and then changed the topic: “There are rumors that the Fuhrer has decided to commit suicide.” — What? — Gunther asked stunned. No one answered his question. -Where will we all go next? — Richter asked next, still in shock from the general’s words about the Fuhrer. — You will be taken out of the bunker. And then do what you want with your life. Gunther was taken aback. He didn’t think it would happen so soon. He hasn’t gotten the necessary documents yet. This means it’s time to hurry up an old acquaintance who once helped his parents leave Germany. Richter quickly turned his back on the general, who had already lost all interest in the pilot, and quickly left the headquarters to visit another basement. He ran as fast as he could and prayed that his body would not come under fire. But now everything seems to have calmed down, and even the roar of Soviet tanks has ceased. Having reached the desired room, he opened the heavy door and went inside. The only source of light in the basement was the lamp, which was not burning now, and Gunther stopped, feeling for the wall with his hand. — Schoenberg. “Gunther called his friend, and he responded to the name immediately. “Gunther, it’s you…” He rasped, and a click was heard, meaning that Schoenberg had put the weapon on safety. — Damn it, you can’t barge in like that. We agreed, what if I shot? — Schoenberg angrily turned on the lamp, and the almost empty room was illuminated by a very dim light. Gunther waved his hand. — Every second counts. I had no time to give signs. How long are you going to hide here? — Richter grumbled. — Until I receive another order. But something tells me that my guys are no longer alive. — Schoenberg chuckled and put the pistol on the old table. -Did you bring me food? — Did you give me the documents? — Gunther asked a question with a question. Schoenberg crossed his arms over his chest and looked at him from under his brows. “Yes, I brought food, I did,” Gunther said grumpily and threw his backpack off his shoulder. Having opened it, Richter took out a stick of sausage and some stew. Schoenberg’s eyes lit up at the sight of the products, and he joyfully walked up to the table, opened the top shelf and took out a folder. “Everything you need is here,” said Schoenberg, handing the folder to Gunther and grinning. — Tell me, old warrior, why two? Gunther took the completed documents from Schoenberg’s calloused, dirty fingers and stuffed them into his backpack. — The second one is for the lady. “He answered slightly embarrassed and without looking in Schoenberg’s direction. “For a lady,” Schoenberg said drawledly. “Have you decided to fall in love at such a difficult time for everyone?” Gunther looked up at him and hoped that his entire appearance was indignant. “What,” the pilot chuckled nervously, “Schoenberg, please don’t make this up.” We just decided to run away together. She, like me, has nowhere to go, so I offered my help. From Schoenberg’s wide grin, Gunther realized that he did not believe him. — Don’t lie to yourself, you fell in love. Otherwise I would not have offered anything. Where are you going to run? Gunther shrugged and threw the backpack back on his back. — I don’t know yet, maybe to America, where everyone else is, or maybe to Portugal. How the cards will fall. Nobody knows what will happen next, Schoenberg. Please take care of yourself, this may be the last time we see each other. — Perhaps, but you know, I’m used to not looking ahead, everything is like a fog there. — In any case, take care of yourself. Schoenberg nodded and they said goodbye. Gunther left the room with documents in his hands and hurried to the bunker to give them to Ilse. On the way, he kept thinking about Schoenberg’s words about love, but never came to any conclusion. Yes, he liked Ilsa, but for him to fall in love at first sight? This cannot happen. Nonsense. Ilsa was simply his salvation. No more. Entering the bunker, miraculously not coming under another attack, Gunther passed several corridors before colliding with Ilse. Becker walked again with an empty tray and universal fatigue on her face. — Ilsa, I got the documents! “He said this modestly, in a half-whisper, but at the same time passionately, excitedly, and a smile lit up her face. She nodded, but didn’t answer him. Yes, and Gunther didn’t need words, he saw them in her eyes. He knew that she agreed to everything. And now all they could do was wait for the opportunity to exit. And liberation from the burden that was dragging them down so much.