This is War [ONC 2021] // Honourable Mention

Chapter Two - Kurt

In a small village in western Germany, close to the border with France, Kurt Schäfer hauled a wheelbarrow up a small hill and dumped the straw onto a pile. His face and forearms glistened with sweat, his hands covered in mud and his shirt pushed up past his elbows. Behind him, a Cockrell squawked and Kurt paused to catch his breath.

He looked out across the fields, watching the sun start to poke its head up from behind the hills. The wind helped to cool Kurt's warm skin but the rising sun only added to the August temperature. Kurt wiped his forearm across his face to try and get rid of the sweat that had started to run into his eyes, but it did nothing to help cool him down.

Kurt sighed and started to head back towards the farm with the wheelbarrow, the wheels slipping on the ground. He took the hill at a little run so he didn't fall over and emerged at the bottom just as his father appeared from the hen house with several eggs for breakfast. Before heading back towards the farmhouse, Kurt took the empty wheelbarrow around the centre of the house and dumped the pitchfork on top so they were easier to find later that day.

With the farm starting to wake, Kurt made his way back towards the farmhouse where he knew breakfast of a pork sausage, eggs, and toast awaited him. He made his way up the dirt path that led from the front door of the farmhouse to a small white gate that encased the house. The walls were made from a grey stone and the windows were dark and mud-splattered - Kurt's mother would spend several hours a week trying to keep the windows clean but to no avail. In Kurt's mind, a farm was the worst place for someone to grow up.

"Change those boots before you come inside and wash your hands before sitting at the table," Mrs Schäfer said when Kurt pushed open the front door.

Kurt sighed. "Yes, Mother." He stopped in the doorway and removed his mud-covered boots, replacing them with a clean pair. Before crossing the room to a small sink that had been filled with warm water when his father had entered the room. Kurt washed his hands with a bar of soap and slid into his seat at the table.

"You smell!" Hans said, scooting his chair away from his brother and holding his nose.

"Do I? Are you sure? Maybe you should get a little closer."

Kurt dragged his chair around the table and leant against his brother who fought and tried to push him off. Hans continued to fight back but Kurt only leaned against him until his younger brother almost fell off his chair and onto the floor. Before he could push him off the chair completely, he felt a tap around the back of the head and looked up to his Mr Schäfer glaring at him. Kurt huffed and shifted his chair back to its usual position whilst Hans fought to return himself to an upright position.

"You know the rules boys, no roughhousing at the table," Mr Schäfer said.

"Yes, Father," they both said. Mr Schäfer dropped into one of the two spare chairs around the table just as Mrs Schäfer handed around the breakfast plates and took her own seat. His father turned the paper and Kurt watched his eyes scan across the page, his expression changing from disbelief to amusement the more he read.

"Looks like the Brits might declare war. The Kaiser hasn't pulled the troops out of Belgium."

"So it's true?" Kurt asked. "Wilhelm said he was going to sign up the moment war was declared."

"What about you?" Hans looked at his brother.

"I'll fight to defend my country. It's my duty."

"And what about the farm? Your father will need you here if all the farmhands join up," Mrs Schäfer said.

"Hans is growing into a big, strong boy, I'm sure he'll pick up the slack for me when I'm gone."

"Definitely! Anything Kurt can do, I can do too!" Hans attempted to make a muscle with his arm, but Kurt couldn't see any real difference in the way he looked.

Kurt laughed, Mr Schäfer made a noise that was somewhere between a laugh and a sigh whilst Mrs Schäfer said nothing. She looked down at her plate and pushed pieces of the sausage around. Her son watched her, knowing all too well that she disliked the idea of her oldest son going off to war. Despite his mother's reaction, Kurt knew that going to war would always be his choice. It was his duty as a German man to stand up for the country were it threatened and to uphold the values his father had instilled into him.

When war would be declared, whenever that may be, Kurt knew he would be one of the first to sign up. He knew going to war could hold its danger but that its reward would always outweigh the risks in his mind. He would be a hero amongst men, a respected man who could go anywhere in the world, be anything. People would respect a soldier far more than any would respect a farmer.

More than anything, Kurt wanted to prove a point. He wanted to prove that farm boys were good for more than moving wheelbarrows and shepherding sheep from one field to another. He wanted to be someone of note, someone people would stare at when he passed by and wish they were friends with. Wilhelm had mentioned that the war would be over by Christmas were one to start and that those who joined straight away would be home and safe by the new year but heroes nonetheless as they helped save their country.

Whatever his mother may have thought about war, Kurt knew he had to defend his country were the time to come. He needed to prove himself and the opportunity had fallen into his lap.

If war came, he knew where he stood. 

First Published - February 10th, 2021