Round Two - Prompt: 1940s
Entry One: Sometimes
In everyone’s life there are decisions one takes that have the
potential to alter the course of one’s life. These moments can occur
at any time and take many forms. Sometimes, they are tiny things,
seemingly insignificant in the grander scale of life; other times they
are big decisions that are weighed carefully.
SS Officer Hummel had separated from the other two officers in his
patrol, following a faint track that didn’t seem animal made through
the woods, only to end up face to face with the one Jew he’d never
thought he’d be facing.
Sometimes, the biggest decision of your life can come at you without
warning, allowing nothing but seconds to be made.
Noah Puckerman stared at him, staring at him in disbelief, betrayal
written all over his face as he took in his uniform, the red banded
swastika on his arm suddenly heavy and shameful. His hands were
sweaty as they held the rifle still pointed at the Jewish man before
him.
“How could you?” Of all the things Noah could have asked or said,
this one brought him the most shame. But he had made his choice a
year ago. Had joined the German military forces; he had hidden, a
sheep in a wolf’s den.
Sometimes, one’s choice is the only way to survive.
“I did what I had to. To stay alive. To keep my father safe.”
“Well then,” Noah said, glancing once behind him, to the 10 or so
kilometers that remained of Austrian territory and the safety behind
Switzerland’s borders. An easy 2 or 3 hour trek, made infinitely
longer and more dangerous with the sheer number of SS patrols in the
area. “You must do what you have to, once more. Like you did when us
being together was too dangerous and you left me; like you did when
you pretended not to know me, because good German boys don’t associate
with Jews. Do what you must; you’ve already broken my heart, you
might as well take my life too.”
Sometimes, one will choose to do what’s right.
Kurt lowered his weapon, its weight heavier in his heart than in his
hands. His heart ached with want, his body felt bereft, empty. The
thought of ending Noah’s life ripped into his soul and grabbed at his
throat, suddenly dry and unable to form words. He shook his head in
horrified denial. He might have ripped Noah from his life, but he’d
never rip the life out of Noah.
“I could never hurt you,” he managed to croak out, closing his eyes.
“Go, you can make it. If anyone can, it’s you.”
The soft touch of Noah’s hand on his face threatened to break him.
“Come with me, Kurt. Choose me this time.”
And sometimes, your heart made the choice for you.
Entry Two: Draft
Kurt remembered talking about how the US was going to stay out of the war and he remembered holding Noah as he went through a tough time over what was happening on the other side of the world. Kurt spent nights sneaking into Noah’s room to be with him.
Noah was eighteen when Japan attacked Pearl Harbor.
When Kurt found the letter in Noah’s room, they held each other, Noah putting on a brave front and Kurt fighting his own losing battle to keep strong. “Please stay,” Kurt pleaded, face buried into the crook of Noah’s neck to conceal his emotions, though he knew Noah felt the moistness caused by his tears.
Noah inhaled Kurt’s intoxicating scent that he could never get enough of. He wanted nothing more than to stay with Kurt but he knew it was not an option. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll whoop those asses and bring you medals,” he promised-a promise he wasn’t sure he could keep.
Kurt pulled back to meet his gaze. “Just tell them you’re gay, Noah. They won’t draft you if you’re gay,” he all but sobbed.
Noah grabbed his hands and brought them up to his chest, squeezing them adoringly. “I’ll come back. I’ll always come back to you. I love you, Kurt.” Kurt choked back a sob before pouncing on him, their lips meeting heatedly. They stayed together all night.
Watching Noah go was the most painful thing Kurt ever had to do. The train operators warned about final boarding and after hesitating to do so in front of his mother, Noah finally kissed Kurt, desperate and needy, declaring his love and promising to write. The train started to move and Noah hopped on. Kurt ran after it until it was too far out of reach, at which point he collapsed to the ground in tears.
The letters came almost daily at first, then twice a week, then biweekly. Then they stopped altogether. Kurt almost stopped getting out of bed, spending days next to a radio and listening to the news, only going outside to walk past the Puckerman household to check that the War Mother’s flag still bore a blue star-the only hope he had that Noah was still alive and well.
With the war over, he sat across from the Puckerman home, watching as neighbors welcomed sons and daughters home. Kurt grew antsy when Noah still wasn’t home by nightfall of the third day. Feeling his heart giving up, he finally gave in to the tears when he felt something being draped around his neck. He looked down to find a gold war medal resting on his chest. Briskly making a one-eighty, his eyes stung at the sight of Noah, head shaved and proudly wearing his uniform, all grown up.
“I promised, didn’t I, baby?” Noah assured as Kurt flung himself into his arms and Noah embraced him, fully welcoming Kurt’s kisses.
“Welcome home, Noah,” he said proudly into the embrace. There were no better words.
Poll Prompt: 1940s
In everyone’s life there are decisions one takes that have the
potential to alter the course of one’s life. These moments can occur
at any time and take many forms. Sometimes, they are tiny things,
seemingly insignificant in the grander scale of life; other times they
are big decisions that are weighed carefully.
SS Officer Hummel had separated from the other two officers in his
patrol, following a faint track that didn’t seem animal made through
the woods, only to end up face to face with the one Jew he’d never
thought he’d be facing.
Sometimes, the biggest decision of your life can come at you without
warning, allowing nothing but seconds to be made.
Noah Puckerman stared at him, staring at him in disbelief, betrayal
written all over his face as he took in his uniform, the red banded
swastika on his arm suddenly heavy and shameful. His hands were
sweaty as they held the rifle still pointed at the Jewish man before
him.
“How could you?” Of all the things Noah could have asked or said,
this one brought him the most shame. But he had made his choice a
year ago. Had joined the German military forces; he had hidden, a
sheep in a wolf’s den.
Sometimes, one’s choice is the only way to survive.
“I did what I had to. To stay alive. To keep my father safe.”
“Well then,” Noah said, glancing once behind him, to the 10 or so
kilometers that remained of Austrian territory and the safety behind
Switzerland’s borders. An easy 2 or 3 hour trek, made infinitely
longer and more dangerous with the sheer number of SS patrols in the
area. “You must do what you have to, once more. Like you did when us
being together was too dangerous and you left me; like you did when
you pretended not to know me, because good German boys don’t associate
with Jews. Do what you must; you’ve already broken my heart, you
might as well take my life too.”
Sometimes, one will choose to do what’s right.
Kurt lowered his weapon, its weight heavier in his heart than in his
hands. His heart ached with want, his body felt bereft, empty. The
thought of ending Noah’s life ripped into his soul and grabbed at his
throat, suddenly dry and unable to form words. He shook his head in
horrified denial. He might have ripped Noah from his life, but he’d
never rip the life out of Noah.
“I could never hurt you,” he managed to croak out, closing his eyes.
“Go, you can make it. If anyone can, it’s you.”
The soft touch of Noah’s hand on his face threatened to break him.
“Come with me, Kurt. Choose me this time.”
And sometimes, your heart made the choice for you.
Entry Two: Draft
Kurt remembered talking about how the US was going to stay out of the war and he remembered holding Noah as he went through a tough time over what was happening on the other side of the world. Kurt spent nights sneaking into Noah’s room to be with him.
Noah was eighteen when Japan attacked Pearl Harbor.
When Kurt found the letter in Noah’s room, they held each other, Noah putting on a brave front and Kurt fighting his own losing battle to keep strong. “Please stay,” Kurt pleaded, face buried into the crook of Noah’s neck to conceal his emotions, though he knew Noah felt the moistness caused by his tears.
Noah inhaled Kurt’s intoxicating scent that he could never get enough of. He wanted nothing more than to stay with Kurt but he knew it was not an option. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll whoop those asses and bring you medals,” he promised-a promise he wasn’t sure he could keep.
Kurt pulled back to meet his gaze. “Just tell them you’re gay, Noah. They won’t draft you if you’re gay,” he all but sobbed.
Noah grabbed his hands and brought them up to his chest, squeezing them adoringly. “I’ll come back. I’ll always come back to you. I love you, Kurt.” Kurt choked back a sob before pouncing on him, their lips meeting heatedly. They stayed together all night.
Watching Noah go was the most painful thing Kurt ever had to do. The train operators warned about final boarding and after hesitating to do so in front of his mother, Noah finally kissed Kurt, desperate and needy, declaring his love and promising to write. The train started to move and Noah hopped on. Kurt ran after it until it was too far out of reach, at which point he collapsed to the ground in tears.
The letters came almost daily at first, then twice a week, then biweekly. Then they stopped altogether. Kurt almost stopped getting out of bed, spending days next to a radio and listening to the news, only going outside to walk past the Puckerman household to check that the War Mother’s flag still bore a blue star-the only hope he had that Noah was still alive and well.
With the war over, he sat across from the Puckerman home, watching as neighbors welcomed sons and daughters home. Kurt grew antsy when Noah still wasn’t home by nightfall of the third day. Feeling his heart giving up, he finally gave in to the tears when he felt something being draped around his neck. He looked down to find a gold war medal resting on his chest. Briskly making a one-eighty, his eyes stung at the sight of Noah, head shaved and proudly wearing his uniform, all grown up.
“I promised, didn’t I, baby?” Noah assured as Kurt flung himself into his arms and Noah embraced him, fully welcoming Kurt’s kisses.
“Welcome home, Noah,” he said proudly into the embrace. There were no better words.
Poll Prompt: 1940s