Dangerous Territory

BOOK THREE: LORRAINE - Letters from Maizières-lès-Metz

Rappelle-toi, lorsque les destinées
M'auront de toi pour jamais séparé,
Quand le chagrin, l'exil et les années
Auront flétri ce coeur désespéré ;
Songe à mon triste amour, songe à l'adieu suprême !
L'absence ni le temps ne sont rien quand on aime.
Tant que mon coeur battra,
Toujours il te dira
Rappelle-toi.

Remind yourself, when destinies
Will have me separate from you forever,
When grief, exile and years
Will have withered this desperate heart;
Think of my sad love, think of the supreme farewell!
Absence or time are nothing when you love.
As long as my heart beats
He will always tell you
Remind yourself.

— Alfred de Musset

...

The fighting south around Feste Kronprinz, or Fort Driant as the Americans called it, went on for days, but the bunkers held against air strikes and tanks alike. After nonstop gunfire and bombing, General Patton had to pull back, the first time the famed American general actually retreated.

Armin spent the last days of September and early October pouring over maps, trying to guess the general's next move. Eren swore that Armin needed to be working with General der Panzertruppe Otto von Knobelsdorff, not explaining things to a few infantrymen sitting around a makeshift kitchen in a warzone.

"Patton is used to a frontal attack. That failed, but he already sent troops to the north in Diedenhofen. Their 5th Division is in the south, and the 95th Infantry Division is in the west. They could loop around, surround us, cut us off..."

One of the new soldiers to their platoon, Jurgen, groaned as he threw a ball into the air and caught it while reclined on the floor. "And we're all gonna die. We know that."

Moblit scolded with unconvincing optimism, "Don't talk like that, Soldat Jurgen."

Another young soldier named Ivan grumbled, "Maybe I can get wounded and sent home. That would be okay."

A blond soldat named Dieter laughed in fatalistic agreement as he played a solitary card game. "A scar to make me look like a hero to all the girls. Sounds good to me. Not too ugly, though. Maybe a scar over the eyebrow. My uncle had one from the last war."

Franz was busy at a crate he had turned into a desk so he could write a letter. Connie peeked over his shoulder to read it and scoffed.

"Are you going to tell your wife about all the whores you slept with in Metz? Maybe I should write to her. 'Dear cuckolded wife of Franz, my name is Connie Springer, and boy, do I have a story for you. It all started with a prostitute in Paris named Adélaïde.'"

Franz turned on him with a scathing sneer. "Keep out of this!"

"Leave him alone," Eren said with a weary sigh, also working on a letter. "You should write to your mother, Connie. Send her a nice letter."

Franz snickered, "Yeah, make her think you aren't an asshole."

Connie bristled and yelled, "Hey!"

Moblit rolled his eyes; it would not be the first time tense nerves led to a brawl. "Men, save it for the Americans."

Before the two could break into a fight, Thomas stepped out of the room they had turned into a kitchen. "Hot soup, whenever you're ready. It's the best thing on a cold day like this."

Floch leaped up and ran into the kitchen shouting, "Mutti Thomas to the rescue!"

Eren paused in his letter, stretched, and gazed out at the dying trees outside. At least it had stopped raining, but with no cloud cover, the temperatures had dropped until it almost felt like it could snow.