Into the Motherland the Germany Army marched...

[youngsoldat]

Erwin had spent enough time exploring the ship to discover the media library. At first he had spent so much time simply reading books he'd missed or reading new books he'd never seen or heard of before. That had taken time. Then, slowly, his curiosity had turned to visual media. At first he had been amazed and overawed by the pictures produced

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[not_prncss_tldr]

Lafiel was intent over one of the bony tables. She had with her The Art of War and Muad'dib's Lectures at the War College holoprojecting their contents to her. She wasn't looking for the usual triete wisdom about striking where least expected and knowing thine enemy and thyself. She was looking for passages on leadership and morale.

All too soon though the lack of sleep lately started to spread sticky cotton over her eyes and the words began to swim. She yawned and closed the books. Something interesting was happening on one of the spleen-esque couches. Someone was watching an old 2D broadcast. Lines were converging, splitting, merging, breaking apart and coming together in little explosions over a planet she wasn't familiar with.

"Excuse me...I'm sorry to bother you, but what battles are these?"

[youngsoldat]

Erwin glanced up, startled. He hadn't expected to be interrupted. He nodded at Lafiel, a tight smile on his lips, then glanced back at the viewing screen, rubbing at his eyes. Everyone was losing sleep these days (and here he'd thought he would actually be able to get some rest aboard this thing).

"Those are newsreels. From the Battle of Kursk. It was huge battle during the war I was fighting in... I wasn't involved, but..."

He shrugged.

[not_prncss_tldr]

"I see." The forces were unknown to her but the shape of the battlefield certainly wasn't. A big dagger, sticking straight into the heart of the anti-spinward (German) lines.

"They're going to try to cut off that bulge and meet in the middle." She knew this instinctively even before the newsreel started. It was the same plan as Operation Phantom Flame...

[bostonbeatcop]

Rob's own dreams hadn't been much better lately. The thick forest, the shells coming in, corpses rotting as they struggled to move forward even five hundred yards through the bloody Hurtgen. He paused as he noticed the flickering black and white, turned.

The German kid...no. The German soldier. Almost his own age. Or would be if the timelines had matched up. He stepped over, standing behind Erwin quietly for a moment.

"Shit, they always made everything sound so clean and neat in those."

[youngsoldat]

Erwin jumped and glanced back at Robert He'd been so intent on watching that he'd lost track of where others in the room where. The sleep deprivation didn't help much either. He shrugged and glanced back at the screen. He still remembered the last time he and Robert had talked.

"...yes. They always do, don't they?"

[bostonbeatcop]

Robert sat down slowly next to the younger man, watching as Russian tanks ground over the plains of the Ukraine. Must have been hard. He rubbed his tired eyes, sighed.

"And it's always the enemy getting it. Not you or your guys."

[youngsoldat]

"Of course not. That would be bad for morale." Surprisingly enough, Erwin sounds earnest. "Do you think I want my family to know how bad it really is? Then they would just worry themselves sick over me, even more then they already do. It's better if they don't know."

He tapped the controller, switching over to... Poland, 1939. "...I thought the war would be over before I ever got involved in it. I was fifteen."

[watchwith3hands]

The dreams were getting to Rei. He'd only slept for about an hour before clawing awake from the nightmares. They were all about his friends and family, and being torn away from them. They reminded him of the loneliness he was feeling on the ship, of the way that he couldn't feel the tug of the time stream on his body and mind. So he was reading about Earth's past and future, trying in the tiniest of ways to relive his travels. Mostly, he was reading Herodotus. He'd always loved Greece.

He noticed the flickering black and white images out of the corner of his eye. He looked up, and saw the German man and the newsreels. He recognized some of those images. "It's more likely for a snake to start smoking right now then the Força Expedicionária Brasileira to set out," he said out loud, one of the most common phrases in his own country during the war. He tried to smile at the young man, but it didn't quite reach all the way to his eyes.

[youngsoldat]

Erwin blanked and glanced back at Rei. He frowned and then shrugged, leaning back in his seat as the black and white images flickered from the screen, "...I don't know much about the Brazilians. I could tell you more about the Russians then anything else."

[watchwith3hands]

Rei shrugged. "Not many people are familiar with my country's involvement. Even though we were the only South American country to send troops over seas. Or that Getulio Vargas - no relation - would have joined the Axis if it weren't for pressure from the USA."

He could have gone on, but he actually resisted his urge to ramble for once. Mainly because he was studying Erwin. "...You were in the war, weren't you?"

[youngsoldat]

"...yes, I was." He glanced at the screen, feeling a bit uncomfortable. He could already sense the impending uestions. "I fought for Germany."

[governorkang]

War was something Kang was very familiar with. He'd been created for one, after all. He stayed silent for a few minutes, standing a few feet behind Erwin and watching the news reels intently. It was familiar, yet different; the airplanes could be replaced with dragons and the guns with crossbows, but the tanks... moving ballistae, perhaps? The advanced technology was fascinating.

"Did you fight in that battle?" he asked, curious.

[youngsoldat]

"No," Erwin admitted (Kang didn't bother him that much - after his arrival not much seemed to phase him), "...I wasn't. Not quite. I missed it because I was recuperating from a wound."

[governorkang]

"But you fought in that war," Kang noted. "That's one thing that doesn't change, no matter where you go. There's always war." His gaze shifted to Erwin. "Were you taken after it ended, or..."

[youngsoldat]

Erwin shrugged, "We were still in the middle of it... I wasn't at the front at the time, though."

He blinked and then offered his hand a bit awkwardly, "Where are my manners? Erwin Fischer."

[agyieus]

Apollo was well used to Nazis. It seems that for every fifteen worlds you came to, three of them were from a world where the Allies had lost the second World War. These worlds tended to be used a lot whenever the Authority had some steam to work off.

Imagine his surprise when he finds old films of them in the Sensoriums. He has the good taste to extinguish his halo as best he can when he enters the theater, to avoid oversaturating the place. He crosses his arms watching the black and white film in a bemused matter before transferring his gaze to the young man watching it so intently. "Does this mean something to you, then?" It's not a hostile question, Apollo's just asking.

[youngsoldat]

Erwin looked up, rubbing at his eyes for a moment. Sleep deprivation sucked, but he was used to it by now. He shrugged, eying the other man. He looked like something out of a film or American comic. Broad-shouldered, chiseled features. A "superman" if there ever was one. He shrugged and offered a polite smile, standing to offer his hand - courtesy costs nothing after all, "Well, I lived it. Erwin Fischer."

[agyieus]

Apollo gives him a long, measured look, before grinning and shaking Erwin's hand in a firm grip. Still, it's not crushing. This is a man who knows how to control his strength. "Apollo. Pleased to meet you." He glances back at the screen, then back at Erwin. There were two options there. One was that Erwin was some kind of immortal, which Apollo couldn't quite believe. Not with those eyes. The other option...

"You're from the 40s, then? German or...?"

[youngsoldat]

Yes, sir," Erwin replied, "Oberschutze Fischer, Three hundred and fifty-second Infantry Division, nine hundred and sixteenth Grenadier Regiment, fifth Company."

If he was wearing his boots, he would've clicked his heels. As it is, he just straightens up a bit more.