Re: Blood and Iron

The return home from war was far different from Bruno’s expected it to be. In his past life, the atmosphere in Berlin was one of solemn defeat, revolutionary sentiment, and the violence of those who sought to take advantage of the crisis.

This could not be said for this timeline. Germany was victorious in an overwhelming fashion. Losses were minimal and were well below the replacement rate. Germany’s economy was bolstered by the war, not broken by it.

Citizens of the Reich could proudly wave their banners and celebrate the return of their valiant heroes in the most lavish of fashions. The future was bright, and the storm clouds lingering far beyond the horizon.

But... The train ride was not particularly festive, not for Bruno and Heinrich at least. Who sat alone in their own cart, drinking beer, and looking at photographs of years past. The difference between the scenes in these pictures, and the one in front of them was that there were three men within the old images, and not merely two.

Bruno’s face was cold, but one could tell by the twitching of his eyes that there was a deep lament and sorrow within them. Heinrich, ever opposed to their fallen comrade, was, for once truly expressing his depression in a way he had seldom partaken in over the last decade.

The two men drank, and drank, bottles of beer piling up in front of them, almost as if they were in a competition to see who could consume the most of their favorite alcohol. Yet their expressions never changed, their sense of loss was finally kicking in now that the war was won, and Erich’s sacrifice which made it happen was only known to them.

It was ultimately Bruno who spoke, his face twitching, his voice struggling not to crack under the weight of heavy emotion that was weighing down his heart and mind as he lifted his beer bottle in the air and proposed a toast.

"To Erich, the true hero of the German Reich... The Terror of Belgorod, a loyal subordinate, and a great friend...."

Heinrich himself was forcing himself not to break down into tears at this point, the stupid nickname Erich had earned whose meaning damn near destroyed their friendship being brought up as a token of honor by Bruno reminded him of past regrets that it was far far too late to rectify.

And perhaps as a sign of him finally letting go of all the animosity he had harbored towards his friend over differences in how they performed their jobs, Heinrich lifted his glass and repeated Bruno’s toast.

"To the terror of Belgorod the Hero we needed but never deserved!"

After which, the two men were silent for the rest of their journey home. Stumbling off of the train along with the other soldiers of the German Army, who were equally intoxicated but for far more cheerful reasons.

Young men were grasped by their wives and lovers as they entered the streets of Berlin, who had waited for them at the station, while Bruno and Heinrich walked over to their own families who were waiting for them.