"Jeder Rückzug, ein Schritt vorwärts. Jeder Fehlschlag, eine Hoffnung auf Erfolg. Jeder Tag der Niederlage, ein neuer Sieg."
Connerré, France. 9th of August, 1944
What is there to say about a bombed French city? Each building tells a small story of it's own, whether it's about the families that lived there or merchants that made their living under those roofs. Every room, big and small, contains a small page of these stories, whether it's written on burnt paper or simply emblazoned in objects, such as furniture, artwork and decorations.
Yet, as different as these stories are in the beginning, most of them end in the same way. Families destroyed, their homes burnt and looted... Their lives turned into mere numbers.
When we arrived to Connerré last week, my heart sank upon witnessing the destruction we caused. Many buildings had been reduced to rubble, while those still standing were plundered and bereft of all their former beauty. The streets were littered with debris, and most houses were burnt and collapsed.
I remember the days when we occupied Poland and western Russia... When we left, we were ordered to destroy everything in our path, and execute thousands of civilians along the way. I can still remember the cries of the despaired women, whose husbands and children were hanged beside them.
Looks like on this new retreat, the land will be purged as well.
One of my fellow squad members found a mass grave in a small park. There, at least two dozen bodies lied limp inside muddy pit, all showing signs of being shot.
I could distinguish women and children among the dead... Mass executions were not unheard of these days. With the constant threat of partisans, together with the advancing American and British armies, our men have no choice. Kill or be killed, be it in the hands of our enemies, or some twisted, evil minded Schutzstaffel officer.
This is not a war. It's homicide, butchery...
And with these odds, we can't possibly win it.
...
...
"Bosch!" My train of thoughts was abruptly disrupted. I opened my eyes and noticed Oberleutnant Schmitt standing by the door. He was a tall man, wearing the standard grey uniform of the Wehrmacht Heer, with a helmet on his head and an MP40 in his left hand. "Die Allierten are on the move, headed zis vay. Get ready."
For the past three days we had been preparing the town against the invasion. Barricades and tank barriers were deployed on every street, buildings were fortified and German snipers were scattered in every direction. The tension increased even more when the SS began to flood the place with their wicked antics. Some even planted Nazi banners and flags on buildings and defences, in a shameless attempt to raise their fanatical morale.
As a Wehrmacht Soldier, I hate them.
"Die Amerikaner?" I asked, puzzled by the news of the imminent attack. "Ich thought we didn't have to expect them 'til ze weekend..." I slowly stood up and massaged my aching neck.
"Vell, it seems somebody didn't do his job properly." He turned to the window and pointed at the wine bar. At least five SS officers could be seen enjoying their stolen French liquor. "Either vay, we don't have much time until zey arrive. Get by ze window and wait for my order. Wilhelm and Gunther will get hier soon with einem MG-42."
"Verstanden." I walked by the window and knelt down, removing my Karbiner 98 rifle from my shoulder and taking off the safe. "Leutnant?" I asked, just before he left. "What about ze Panzer?" Directly in front of me, the broken Panzer VI Tiger tank provided an excellent cover for anyone trying to storm my position. Any fool could simply hide behind it and lob grenades at our position.
"What about it?"
"Vell, zhat's a giant piece of bulletproof metal. Die Amerikaner could easily hide behind it... Why did nobody take care of zhis?"
"Do I look like ein General to you? Zhey left it there for a reason."
"Und that reason is...?"
"Beats me..."
I gave a sigh in contempt as the officer walked out of the room, leaving me alone to prepare myself. I began checking my equipment when I heard some rustling coming from the neighbouring room. I turned and spotted the Leutnant poking his head through the opened door.
"Oh, I almost forgot." He threw three stielhandgranaten at my general direction, landing close to my feet. "Use these to blast anyone behind ze Panzer. Do not waste them."
I gave him a pleased smile and nodded while he retreated back to his own position. When I began attaching the grenades to my harness, I noticed a squad of SS troops removing all soldiers from the street. In a matter of seconds, the entire road was bereft of life, a deep silence taking over the scene.
"All clear! Move up! Go, go, go!"
An American voice broke through the tense silence with a loud yell, followed by the sound of many boots hitting the ground. I quickly positioned myself to shoot at the road, aiming directly at the ruined building by the corner of the street.
"Johann!" Schmitt said in a hushed voice. "Nicht schießen. Wait for ze signal."
I silently nodded and hid behind the wall. The noise intensified as around twenty Allied soldiers ran through the ruined building in front of my position.
"Spread out!"
*BANG!*
"SNIPER! SNIPER!"
I peaked through the opening to find the Americans taking cover behind some crates on the street. A dead body lied limp on the cobblestone road, slowly forming a puddle of it's own blood.
"FEIND KONTAKT!"
I could hear a yell coming from the winery's second storey, most probably from our sniper. A few of the Americans retaliated, shooting him across the street while completely oblivious of my presence.
I ducked back behind the wall and began waiting. While the standoff kept going on the street, the sound of boots again rang through my head. Turning to the window on my left, the one overlooking the panzer, I noticed at least three German platoons running straight towards the Allied position.
Was zum Teufel? What are they-
"KRAUTS IN THE OPEN!"
In a split second, the entire Allied strike force opened fire at the grey coated soldiers. I closed my eyes as a cacophony of rifles, machineguns and grenades rained hell on the road below.
"Alles klar, männer! Feuer frei!"
From the next room, I could hear the rest of my squad shooting through the windows and holes in the wall, yelling incomprehensible words at each other.
Taking a deep breath, I stood up and slightly poked my rifle out of cover. Looking to my back through the front window, I saw a group of Americans stacking up by the ruins, one of them looking out through the corner. Slowly, I levelled up my rifle at their position, waiting for them to run out.
"SQUAD! FLANK RIGHT!"
Wait.... focus...
Running as fast as they could, five men clad in green uniforms ran out of their cover, heading towards the wrecked Panzer. Without thinking twice, I squeezed the trigger.
"MOVE! MOVE! MOV-" *bang*
Got him.
Satisfied with my first kill of the day, I got behind cover and operated the bolt of my rifle. The other four Allies, however, made it behind the tank.
Without thinking twice, I grabbed one of my grenades and lobbed it behind the Panzer.
A dud. Of course.
Fearing retaliation, I snuck into the neighboring room, joining up with the rest of my squad. I arrived just in time to see Wilhelm and Gunther run into the room, carrying an MG-42 and a few ammo belts. Both men seemed exhausted and had their uniforms covered in dirt and blood.
Hopefully not their own.
"Herr Leutnant! Where do you want ze MG?!"
"About time! Hier, on these sandbags! Schnell!"
Gunther, the tallest of the two, lowered himself to a crouching position behind the sandbags, which were set to cover a big hole punched through the wall. He grabbed the MG and unfolded the bi-pod, resting it on the canvas surface, while Wilhelm fed a long ammo belt into it's receiver.
With a loud burst, the machine gun came to life, striking panic among the Allied ranks. The green coated soldiers quickly ducked behind the tank, most probably praying for their lives. Those too slow were shredded to pieces.
I took a step back and looked at the Oberleutnant. He too was visibly disappointed in our engineers and sappers. Our soldiers outside began retreating, running for cover in the heat of combat. Some even got inside our building, one carrying a heavy field radio in his back.
An SS officer ran in as well, just as scruffy as the others. He grabbed the field radio and began transmitting.
"Wotan, hier Walküre! Haben schwere Verluste! Feind bei Emil Minus dreizehn Plus fünf in Zugstärke durchgebrochen! Fordern umgehend Entsatz! Stellung kann nicht gehalten werden! Ich wiederhole, Stellung kann nicht gehalten werden, kommen!"
"HERR LEUTNANT!" Gunther cried out. "ZE MG! ZE TRIGGER IS STUCK ON AUTOMATIC!"
"WHAT!"
"IT WON'T STOP FIRING!"
"SCHEISSE! WE HAVE TO GET OUT!"
To my horror, we were completely surrounded. There was no way out...
"WE CAN'T! WE ARE SURROUNDED!"
*click* *click* *click*
"NEIN! NEIN! NEIN! IT'S OUT OF AMMO!"
"GET A GRENADE IN THERE!"
What...? I looked below and saw two green grenades by my feet. Oh scheiße...
"GRANATE!"
"GET OUT! LOS! LOS! LOS!"
The last thing I remember was being blasted out of the window. I think Wilhelm and Schmitt managed to survive, though I doubt they escaped unharmed. Darkness overcame me as I plummeted down onto the hard cobblestone road. I tried to move, but I couldn't feel my body, only a sharp pain, and cold beyond the imaginable.
I felt an alien warmth around me when I woke up. A soft silk caressed my skin as I slightly shifted my body to hug the pillow. I opened my eyes to find myself in a small bedroom, resting comfortably on a small bed. My legs were curled inwards, since the mattress was too short for me, and a smooth bed sheet warmed my hurt body.
I began slowly scanning the room I was in, taking special note on the posters and decorations pasted over the blue walls. To my right, next to the bed, white trimmed window showered the sun's light into the little bedroom, with it's blue curtains laid open by the sides.
Directly in front of me, a big closet was built beside the doorway, it's wooden doors painted in bright white. It was partially open, revealing a few unpainted drawers and clothing hanging from barely invisible hangers. I could tell this room belonged to a young boy, possibly around the age of fifteen or sixteen. A most refreshing sight, in comparison to the crumbling towns of occupied Europe.
I turned to my left and saw my tunic and camouflage smock lying on a chair, next to a wooden desk. My jackboots had also been removed from my body, placed on the floor beside my clothes. My equipment and helmet were placed nearby as well, resting on top of the desk.
My eyes were drawn back to the posters. Their design was that of military recruitment propaganda, written in bold English letters. But... why horses? Each sign featured a white, winged horse holding a spear with either it's wing or hoof. They were both clad in a medieval looking golden armour, one of them bearing a chain mail underneath the plate.
I was intrigued by the premise of their titles, though. 'Equestrian Royal Guard'? I thought with amusement. Whoever drew these surely has some imagination.
I tried to get up for a closer look when an uncomfortable pain emerged from my ribs. I moved away the covers and realized my shirt had been unbuttoned, and blood soaked bandages were tightly wrapped around my thorax. I moved my hand forward to touch my chest, feeling my ribs intact, save for a few sore spots on my skin.
Just what happened to me? I tried to think back to the moment I blacked out. My memory was spinning and only small fragments came back to my mind. There were many gunshots.... The Allies assaulting our position...
The grenades...
Realization hit me like a truck. How could I possibly survive that? What happened to Gunther and the others? Was I captured when found alive?
No, no... I couldn't have been captured, I thought inwardly, puzzled by my situation. I should have been restrained and my equipment taken away...
Perhaps some French family felt pity and took me in..? Bah, who am I kidding. The French wouldn't have helped a German. Not after all we did to them.
I interrupted my train of thoughts when I tried to get up again. I winced a bit, but slowly made my way into a sitting position on the bed. I gave a slight grunt while trying to stretch out, what little I could.
"Ah... scheiße..."
While buttoning up my shirt, I moved towards the desk to check my equipment. My belt and webbing were neatly splayed on the wooden surface, with all their attachments still bound to the leather. My six ammunition pouches were left untouched, and my trusty shovel was still packed in it's sheathe, together with my mess kit, bread bag, battle pack and canteen.
On top, the metallic canister containing my gas mask lied closed, together with my grenades, gas pouch, pistol holster and helmet. As for my rifle, I found the weapon lying diagonally on the floor, resting over the desk's right side.
I noticed there were a few other items placed on the desk, beside my combat gear. There was a small white lamp on the far right end, working as paperweight for a few clean parchment sheets. Next to it, two wooden frames were on display, one holding some sort of document, while the other a coloured photograph.
It was a strange sight, to say the least. Just like the posters on the wall, the picture featured these weird looking horses. This time around, however, the creatures looked quite different. Their coats and manes were painted in vibrant colours, nowhere near those of normal horses, and all had horns sticking out of their foreheads.
Unicorns, apparently. Mythical beasts with magical powers.
Yet, the picture had this uncanny 'realistic' look to it. Despite the sheer craziness of the concept, the herd of unicorns in that picture looked almost like real, living creatures. They looked like a family, posing and smiling for the camera all together, accompanied by what I thought was their pet lizard.
A very odd looking lizard, though.
I grabbed the frame and brought it closer to my eyes, in an attempt to analyse it's authenticity even further. I stared at it for about ten seconds before putting it back, just as confused as when I first saw it.
This doesn't make any sense, I thought. First the posters, and now this photo... Whoever owns this place is really obsessed with horses...
Deciding I had no further reason to stay in that room, I sat on the chair and slid my feet into the jackboots, feeling the leather once again brushing against my skin. Then, ignoring the pain in my chest, managed to put on my tunic, buttoning up all but the upper button.
Leaving the room, I found myself in a narrow hallway, which led to a staircase on the opposite end. I could distinguish a very low voice coming from downstairs, most probably belonging to my 'saviour'. As I got closer to the stairs, I noticed it wasn't just one, but two women talking in English.
Needless to say, I felt all but safe. Making the least noise possible, I hacked the wall beside the stairs, trying to eavesdrop on their conversation.
"So... do you have any idea on when he's gonna wake up?"
"It's hard to tell, Twilight..."
"I just don't want him to experience more pain..."
"There isn't much we can do about it. His wounds are healed, at least. But he went through a lot... Remember to administer him some of that medicine I gave you, should he start screaming again."
Wait... what? Screaming? I thought.
"I will."
I could now hear footsteps coming from below, as well as the distinguishable creaking from a badly oiled door. I felt a chill run down my spine, welcoming the cold breeze from outside.
"Well, that's it for me. Take care, Twilight. And remember to keep him out of sight. His uh... kind... may not be quite welcome."
"A sad truth. Thanks for coming, Red. I mean it."
"Hey, anything for a friend. I'll come around next week, kay?"
"Sure. Have a safe trip."
"You worry too much. Best of luck tonight!"
"Thanks. Good bye!"
I returned to my room once I heard the door close, sitting down on the bed and trying to put my head in the right place. Well, that woman was surely a nurse, I thought, giving a sigh. But Verdammt... Just where am I? If I could-
"Ah! You're awake!"
My heart almost skipped a beat. My trail of thought was abruptly broken by her voice. How could have she snuck into the room that easily? Didn't I close the door?
What is happening to me? Why can't I turn my head to face her?
Taking a long, deep breath, I slowly turned towards the door and stared dumbfounded at the shape before me.
Standing by the threshold, a white horse looked at me with her huge turquoise eyes. A motherly look was drawn on her expression, and a white, pointy horn poked out of her white and purple mane.
...
...
"Was zum Teufel?"
"Hey... You okay? Don't be scared. I'm not gonna hurt you."
The white mare took a few steps forward, her tender eyes never leaving mine. My brain slowly shut down, failing to process the situation at hand. Am I dead? There was no other possible explanation. Unicorns aren't real, let alone talking ones. Yet there she was, like a mother tending to her hurt child.
"Sie- sie können sprechen?" (You can talk?)
She looked at me quizzically, failing to understand my language. "Sorry, what was that?"
"Wer bist du.....? Was bist du?" (Who are you? What are you?)
"What do you mean? What are you trying to say?"
I took a deep breath, trying my best to relax and form a coherent sentence. Doing my best to remember my days in the University of Berlin, I began putting together a sentence. "Uh... Vho are you?"
"Who am I?" she asked, giving me a smile. "I'm Twilight Velvet. My husband and I found you and brought you here."
They found me? "You... found mich? Vhere?"
"Mhm," she nodded. "We heard a noise coming from an alley on our way back from the theatre, and there you were, unconscious. We couldn't leave you there to die, could we?" She let out a nervous chuckle, notably uncomfortable about the subject. She walked towards the bed and sat beside me. "So, what's your name?"
"Mein... name...?" I paused for a moment. Why would she care...? "Johann. Johann Bosch."
"Well then, Johann Bosch, it's nice to finally meet you." She extended her hoof towards me, as if expecting a... handshake? I stared at the hoof for about three or four seconds before understanding what she expected. I returned the gesture, feeling her soft fur brushing my skin.
"Likevise... Frau Velvet."
"If you don't mind me asking... What exactly are you, Mister Bosch?"
After our first encounter, and finally breaking out of my initial mental breakdown, Twilight Velvet and I walked downstairs, to the dining room. The first thing I noticed upon entering the room was the size of the furniture around the house, designed to accommodate for the horses' short height. Even the dining table was lower than usual, and, to my surprise, lacked chairs. Instead, it was surrounded by very small stools, which seemed specially made for these horses' anatomy.
While I busied myself studying the furniture, the white unicorn made a short trip to the kitchen, bringing back with her a small tray with a cup of coffee and some biscuits. I was a bit intrigued by her method, carrying the tray on her mouth and gently resting it on top of the table. An impressive display of jaw strength.
"Danke", I said, grabbing my cup and having a sip."And Ich should ask ze same to you, Frau Velvet."
"Me? You never met or heard of ponies before?"
"Common ponies, ja. But colourful, talking ponies vith horns in zheir heads, nein. Und, to ansver your question, Ich am a human, Fraulein."
"How strange... Where are you from?"
"I vas born in Düsseldorf, Deutschland. And believe me, Fraulein, zis is the first time I encounter a talking pony."
"Deutsch- what?" she asked, puzzled by the name. "I've never heard of that place before."
"Was (What)?" I put the cup down on the table, trying to make sense of her words. Didn't she recognize the Swastika on my chest? Or the Reichsadler? "You never heard of ze German Reich?"
"Um... no? Where in Equestria is that?"
"Equestria...?" I muttered. This doesn't make any sense... Unless... "Scheiße..."
"I'm sorry. I don't know where that is."
...
*Sigh* "It's fine, Fraulein," I said, feeling lost and defeated. Well, if I'm gonna be stuck here, I better gather some information. "So... where am I, then? What is zis place called?"
"Right now we're in Canterlot, the capital city of Equestria."
"Equestria? Is that ze country ve're in?"
"Yes... kind of. The Principality of Equestria is a union of many city-states and kingdoms, which respond to the Royal Sisters," she explained. "Each state is allowed a certain level of independence, as well as their own elected governments and administrations, but we all pay tribute to Canterlot and the royal family."
"I see. An empire, then?"
"More or less, but each state, Canterlot included, is responsible for it's own internal affairs, as well as defence."
"Oh?" Now this piqued my interest. "You don't have eine imperial army?"
"We used to, but that was a very long time ago. Back in the day, the Equestrian Army was divided into two major branches: The Solar Guard, who responded to Princess Celestia, and the Night Watch, commanded by Princess Luna. But sadly, the Lunar Civil War ended up putting these armies against one another."
"A struggle for power, I assume," I said, taking another sip of coffee.
"It's... a long story. But yes, they did fight over the throne of Equestria. After the war, Princess Celestia thought it best to completely restructure the army, causing the complete disbandment of the Lunars, and the fragmentation of the Solars. Each Solar regiment returned to its home region, and became it's army."
"To avoid another mass uprising... how long ago was zis?"
"Oh, very long. One thousand years, to be exact."
"A thousand Jahren (years) ago? But... How did Equestria defend itself since zhen?"
"We never had to. The only major conflict was the Griffonian War, about seven hundred years ago, but only the Kingdom of Cloudsdale was engaged. The other states only gave monetary and medical support."
"Impressive, Frau Velvet. Both your nation's administration und your knowledge of military history."
She sheepishly looked away, a slight blush radiating from her cheeks. "Well, my son Shining Armour's in the Canterlot Guard... I learnt a few things. And, please, you can call me Twilight."
"He's ein Soldat?" I asked, raising my eyebrows in surprise. Well, that explains it.
"A Captain, actually... In the Princesses' Own Royal Guard..."
I could sense a tinge of pride in her voice, the one only a mother can have for her son. An officer in the monarch's personal guard? I thought. Now that's something.
"You must be very proud of him, Fraulein."
She looked back at me, giving me a truly warm, motherly smile. "Indeed I am, Mister Bosch. Shining Armour and his sister are the biggest accomplishments of my life."
I couldn't help but smile. "Good to hear it, Tvilight. Und you can call me Johann. No need for formalities with me."
"Alright then, if you insist. Is there anything else you would like to know?"
"Actually, ja. I vould like to know more about this world, specially the Equestrian society und government."
"Well, to be honest, I don't really know much about other cultures..." she said, jumping off the little bench and getting on all fours. "Equestria is very diverse, but I'm sure you'll find what you need in my daughter's old library. Come, you'll love this."
Standing among Maps
-Imperial Glory Soundtrack-
When Twilight Velvet mentioned a library, I expected no more than a few shelves with ten or twenty books each. Needless to say, I felt overwhelmed upon entering this 'library', which encompassed the entirety of a -huge- basement. Everywhere I looked, the sight of books filled my eyes, tome after tome of nearly unlimited knowledge. There was a book for just about anything, be it physics, chemistry, history, sociology and even, believe it or not, magic.
To my surprise, the magic section was the biggest one, covering the entirety of the left wall.
While I busied myself with the books, I heard Twilight mention something about cooking dinner, followed by the noise of a door closing. Now, left alone to focus, I started looking for the social sciences section. To my surprise, I stumbled upon an aisle dedicated to different languages, which contained a few translation dictionaries and learning guides. Apparently, languages in Equestria are very similar to those back on Earth, save for their official names. English was called 'Ponish', French was named 'Chevalaise', and so on. I even found the local equivalent of the German language, called 'Pferdisch' by the local population.
Before moving on, I grabbed one of the 'Pferdisch-Ponish' translation dictionaries, figuring it might be useful for future reference.
I spent the following hours reading about Equestrian history and pony society, as well as the customs and traditions of the most prominent regions of the principality. It took some time to grasp the concepts of magic and immortality as actual realities in this world, as well as a few demonstrations from Twilight Velvet to fully convince me of their existence. In the end, bewildered as I was, I ended up accepting them as facts. After all, in a land of colourful, talking horses, those things shouldn't surprise me.
What surprised me the most though, leaving magic aside, was the unnatural lack of armed conflicts within Equestria's borders. Just as Frau Velvet said, the only war fought since the Lunar War was the Cloudsdale-Griffonian war, which took place seven hundred years ago. Since then, Equestria maintained a very strict policy of neutrality and pacifism, which seemed to rub off on other neighbouring nations.
What a place to be a soldier, I thought. I guess I'll need a new job.
There was also the topic of racial equality among ponies, something I particularly found quite shocking. I found it hard to believe how Earth ponies, Pegasi and Unicorns have lived in harmony for centuries, rarely having any sort of conflict, whereas on Earth there's been a brutal race war going on for the past five years.
I kept on reading about the three tribes, completely dumbfounded by their friendly coexistence. The Führer had taught us about racial superiority, and how the strongest race was supposed to dominate the others... but here, although one could argue the Earth ponies were the inferior of the three, all three tribes treated each other as equals, regardless of their capabilities.
What if this could be applied to us too? I thought, thinking back to what I was taught in the Hitlerjugend. Why couldn't whites, blacks, Asians, Latinos, Arabs and Jews coexist in a similar way?
I then moved on to more modern subjects, like politics and economy. I ended up skimming through the pages, rather than reading, focusing only on what could be useful for my possibly extended stay in this new world. Once I armed myself with enough knowledge to survive, I returned the books to their respective shelves and returned to my room.
___________________________________________________________
The rest of the afternoon was uneventful. I spent it mostly checking and organizing my equipment, making sure everything was still in place and whether or not I had enough supplies. After a short ammunition count, I moved on to my battle pack, making sure all my belongings were still within it's pockets. As expected, both my cleaning kit and rations were still inside, barely making enough room for me to put away my camouflage smock.
Having some time to waste before dinner, I decided to go ahead and disassemble my rifle for cleaning. Sitting on the bed, I grabbed the gun and unscrewed the cleaning rod, then using it to dismantle the bolt mechanism, safety and magazine.
However, it appeared that the clean up would have to wait. A knocking on the door broke my concentration, followed by a male voice calling my name. I stood up from the bed and opened the door, greeting a light blue unicorn standing on the hallway.
"Ah, Mister Bosch, good evening."
"Guten abend. I take you are Frau Tvilight's husband, ja?"
"Mhm," he nodded. "I'm Night Light. Pleasure to meet you." He extended his hoof towards me, meeting my fist in a 'fistbump', or 'hoofbump', as the local ponies call it. "Do you mind if I come in?"
"Ja, sure," I said, opening the door wider. "Is zhere anything Ich can help you with?"
"I just wanted to check on you, that's all," he said, walking in and sitting by the desk. I closed the door and sat on the bed, carefully moving the dismantled pieces of my carbine to a side. "I hope you're comfortable here."
"Eh, do not vorry about mein comfort, Herr Night Light. Ich am more than happy with just some food und shelter."
"Haha, you're too modest."
"Ja, but still. Danke. For everything."
"You're welcome. It's the least we could do, after finding you in that alley and all."
"Vhy did you help me, though?" I asked, getting a confused glare from the blue unicorn.
"You're kidding, right? Why wouldn't we? You were completely wrecked back there!"
"Ja... but what did I do for you to vant to help me?"
"What do you mean? My wife and I couldn't just leave you there, now could we?"
...
"You could have..."
...
"... Why are you saying all this?"
"Because..." I gave a long sigh. "Because, vell, where Ich come from, nobody would have done ze same."
