warning: this contains ideology sensitivity like Nazism. So please proceed with caution. The beliefs and views written here and spoken by the characters do not reflect onto the author's views. Thank you.

nel buio, prima dell'alba
en la oscuridad, antes del amanecer
in der Dunkelheit, vor der Morgendämmerung
dans l'obscurité, avant l'aube
в темноте, до рассвета
tamsoje iki aušros
w ciemności, przed świtem

in the darkness, before the dawn

Chapter One of Nel buio, prima dell'alba

The air was too thick to breath. The smell of death and blood clung desperately to the living plants. The crimson liquid stained the ground, the plants, and bodies. There was nowhere to hide from the enemy, it was a rolling meadow, and the British had secured their position with the Americans in the forests lining the meadow while he and his men were stuck out in the open, corpses falling to the ground in the masses.

June 26th, 1942: near the border of France via Belgium

Ludwig was seventeen when he was enrolled in the military and went through training for a couple of months by the time he was put in the Heer, Ludwig was eighteen. His brother, Gilbert, had been deemed fit to be in the Luftwaffe where Ludwig had only dreamed about serving there. But no, he was stuck here with that lump in his throat as the bodies found their final resting place on the meadow's ground, the flowers gently moving at the breeze from the impact of the other.

And here he was, hiding behind a tree that stuck out from the forest that his fellow soldiers were hiding in. The blond was crouched down, his rifle in hand that was busy loading a cartage inside as quick as his fingers could possibly go. Ludwig turned to his left, peeking his head out behind the tree and his rifle in front of him, waiting for any sign of movement.

Ludwig cursed as a bullet whizzed by and the echo of gunfire booming from across the enemy trees. He was spotted, they knew where he was. The German let out a sigh, pulling his helmet off to slick his hair back.

The sun was hovering over the trees, casting long shadows and light to be able to see the men as they prepared their guns to fire. It had started to get quiet out, only gunfire when someone was spotted. Most of his fellow soldiers were returning back to camp in the silence but he chose to stay out. On guard perhaps, in case one of the Americans decided to be cocky.

Ludwig crouched in the same spot for some moments, mulling over ideas until the one came to his mind. He pulled off his supplies and backpack, resting it against the tree and pulling the cover flap off. He sat on the ground from his position, quietly taking the contents from their secure places. He had returned everything to the pack besides three things. Three hand grenades.

They were too heavy in Ludwig's hand as he stood. A suicide mission that wasn't even a mission, a risk and if he messed this up even if he lived he would end up looking down at his own grave. A deep breath was nesscary.

There was a nagging sensation in the pit of his stomach. He wanted to tell someone, but they would probably repeat the same things that Ludwig was thinking himself. Someone to grab his supplies and make sure that the Allies' forces would never find them sitting casually under a tree, looking lonelier than ever.

If they found it, they wouldn't find anything worthy. Ludwig took out the remaining bullets before digging a small hole and covering it up in dirt and some moss that had been ripped up from a grenade earlier. Next, he jammed the rifle. He also get rid of anything on his uniform that was too noisy, even his jacket where you could hear the material thump against his thighs. Although, he kept his helmet, that was staying. Once all the preparations were just in case he didn't make it back. Dead, captured, or tortured. All the same in the end.

Ludwig walked along the German line until nightfall. He couldn't see a damn thing until the moon caught onto the sun's ray, shining down on the meadow and trees. He took another breath. There would be guards and he needed to get into the trees as quick as possible on the Allies side even though there was the giant stretch of meadow. He could get shot in the meantime, it didn't matter, he just needed to follow his instincts. Ludwig shoved the grenades in his pockets, moving quietly across the meadow, weaving in and out of the thick grassed patches. So far, everything was okay. But this wasn't hell yet; when he reached inside it would be. He had been traveling for about two minutes at a slower pace across the stretch of grass before he reached the first tree, then more and more trees to create a forest. Ludwig stopped, burrowing himself into a bush in the deep silence.

He needed to think battle tactics here. He wasn't sure where the Allied camp was but he could start to see distant flickers of lights coming from the north and west, possibly a couple spread out camp either way he only had three grenades to waste. The German found the easiest tree, climbing up into the tall limbs before jumping into another across the way. Too loud, idiot. Maybe after doing this for a while I'll get better... He thought to himself. Indeed, after some time it did get easier and more trust directed at himself. One disadvantage was Ludwig himself. Being big and muscular, he had to get on the stronger branches so he didn't fall but he had the advantage of surprise. If that even was an advantage anymore.

The light was closer than ever, the echoing of voices everywhere. Thank The Lord that he learned English, taught by his grandfather and Gilbert who had learned it from one of his friends named Francis. Ludwig spotted his eyes on the people, bustling about. His throat ran dry. He didn't want to kill them, no, this was painful. Smiles on their faces, laughter in their voices, everything that Ludwig didn't want to hear. He was doing this to stop the bloodshed. Ludwig closed his eyes and breathed.

One grenade was in his hand.

The one grenade. He planned on putting it in the least populated place, right by the rations. He didn't want to kill anyone there, no. His heartbeat was too fast, the heavy little explosion weighing down his hand. Ludwig's fingers clasped around the small metal pin and ripped it out in one swift motion. As quick as he could, he swung his arm back and threw it at the rations. In the dark, he could see the outline of it hit the boxes, rolling just a bit to the side before hell let loose. His hands went right to his ears at the large, explosion rippled through the forest. After unplugging his ears and the sound of fire ripping through the boxes and the small shards that had landed around him met his ears as well as the forest animals retreating.

The Allies would be looking for him in motions so he had to move fast. He scrambled out of the tree, his feet carrying him as fast and quietly as they could guide him. Soon another light was in his sights. God damn it. The German peeled the other grenade from his pocket, racing past the other camp and this time un-pinning and throwing to the nearest rations, the impact of the explosion helping him to run faster as he did so.

Constant running at a high speed went for about five minutes until he could hear the yells and shouts of the English. He didn't smile. No, there was no success yet. Ludwig ran. The meadow seemed far to big then it normally was for the past week. Oh. They had spotted him now; he could hear the gunfire and the sound of bullets. He had stayed to the shadows but every now and then the moonlight caught his outline and gave him away. It died down after a while. Ludwig also stopped by his things, but only put his jacket back on and the backpack with a mumble under his breath and pants escaping too.

His camp was not too far off. His pace slowed down to a walk. In the heat of the moment, he hadn't noticed his wounds. There were many, just the burns that had claimed his skin on the back of his calves and back. They hurt now, but they weren't as bad as Ludwig had seemed them on fellow soldiers before. Once rounding camp, business was as usual. No one had seen him. No one had noticed him gone. No one had heard the explosions. Well besides the guards, but no one knew that yet.

In the morning there was a meeting. Everyone gathered. The commander talked. Someone had snuck into Allied territory, he explained, and successfully blew up a great portion of their rations. They had praised this for bravely and loyalty to their country. They didn't know whether it was a traitor in Allied territory (it was highly doubted but could be a spy of theirs) or Axis solider. Ludwig would have preferred no praise. He didn't want to be recognized for what he did. But, no one ever gets what they want in the end.

July 3rd, 1942: Berlin, Germany

This train was high class. Ludwig had never expected to be seated on such a grand train, heading back to his home, to his family in Berlin. He had also imagined dying on the battlefield with all his friends besides him. If he had any friends in the first place.

On the night of destroying the rations, someone had spoken up. Three soldiers were missing at camp and had been shrugged off for guarding even though there were guards. Ludwig and two other men suspected. They checked their supplies. Two explosions had taken place at the night ambush of the Allies. All three grenades were used in one man's pack, one hadn't used any, and Ludwig had only one left. Number two was no longer a suspect. No one had to be no longer suspected in examining Ludwig's burns and came to a conclusion.

Berlin was on the horizon. The train was slowing. And the station welcomed it with open arms.

Stepping onto the platform and hearing his shoes strike the hard pavement, Ludwig let out a sigh. Berlin was different from what he remembered. The city of his family, holidays spent laughing and annoying older brother pestering him many days. Now it was cold. No laughter. All the color seemed to be drain from their faces, everything a brush stroke of black and white besides his own blond hair standing out among the crowd. The hat in his hands suddenly had made its way to his head, covering the brightness from the monotone colors of the city.

The car ride was long. Might it had been for Ludwig seeing the city in another light or just the distance had grown since he had been away. Either way, as they neared the unfamiliar nerves of nervousness and guilt clutched at his stomach. He wasn't exactly sure why, though he hadn't been home for a year or just that he was coming home so soon, so unexpected. He was meant to never return.

The black car slowed. Upon leaving the car, they also told him to leave his coat; so he did. He exited and walked up to the stairs. His keys easily fit into the lock as he turned the knob.

"Hallo? Anyone home?" Ludwig called into the darkness of the building, dropping his backpack with his few possessions by the door and kicking off his boots before placing them neatly. He was still wearing his uniform though he rather not.

The movement caught his eye. An older man who looked exactly like Ludwig but with longer hair, same expression and facial features emerged from the threshold of the main entrance. Besides the eyes; the older gentleman's eyes were a colder, dark blue compared to Ludwig's that were a bright, sky blue that held life to them compared to the other's who had seen many things. This they shared. They both have seen many things that they wished they could forget.

"Ludwig..?"

Ludwig awkwardly shifted from foot to foot, taking a step forward. His grandfather's mouth twitched, trying possibly to form a smile but didn't quite work. "I was not expecting you home, but I will make wurst in celebration. Also, Gilbert is returning home tomorrow."

That night, sleep wasn't easy. Both for the return of his brother and why they sent him home.

By the time that Ludwig had awakened, Gilbert wasn't home. Not yet. That would be better if he came home earlier, for the both of them. Would save Ludwig from the upcoming shame that some people he used to know would kill for. Literally and figuratively.

The black car had returned by eight o'clock sharp, grandfather having gone out shopping the hour earlier he couldn't have said goodbye. A note would due for now. The car ride was not as long as the first due to that Ludwig wished he could stay in there his whole life and never get out. He didn't want to go here. He didn't want to be this person. He didn't want to hurt people for some absurd reason. Nonetheless, he had to. It was an "honor", "privilege", people would look up to him with "respect". The car slowed. He got out. He was welcomed by two lines of soldiers, two of them carrying the flag at the ends as he neared the end of the line.

People from the town had gathered by now once the speaking had started. The man before Ludwig went on and on about the courageous deeds he had performed during war echoed by the soft murmurs of the crowd. The attention was making spiders creep up his skin. No it was impossible, these people were making sound like a monster and that wasn't what he was... right? He didn't want to know whose blood stained his hands, he didn't even want the blood on his hands! Ludwig tried to keep his eyes widening in protest and somehow maintained the same barren expression pasted to his face. He had a heart unlike the people surrounding him.

They gave him a new hat. He didn't like it. His jacket that he had left in the car was remolded as well. On the collar they had put collar tabs on the collar of his jacket, the one to his right two lightning bolts and the left one had a pip and two stripes underneath it in white while the patch was solid black, sticking out from his grey uniform. There was also the new shoulder straps that gained their position on the shoulders of the jacket. An red arm band had also been put on the jacket. To be polite, Ludwig reached out and took the coat with a nod of his head before slinging it over his shoulders.

"Ludwig Beilschmidt, Scharführer der Schutzstaffel!" The man announced. All Ludwig wanted to do was run away.

After the ceremony, Ludwig had declined the car ride home. In turn, many people before he left came up to him desperate to congratulate him. He wasn't exactly sure if some of them were trying to get on his good side for future reference or just to be "kind". Whatever they were aiming at, he didn't want any part of it.

The walk home was quiet and somewhat uneasy. The new title made his skin prickle as well not to mention the glares and stares of the people as he walked by. He had to pull the hat down a bit to cover his eyes. He did not exactly want to make eye contact and let them stare on though he looked around to distract himself from the harsh eyes of certain citizens. Ludwig wanted to protect these people not wear a uniform that would submission them into fear. Instead of respect it was fear. But wasn't that was fear was in the end? Just a contributing factor to respect?

The buildings cast their dark, looming shadows across the street. The later it got in the day, the more people were out. It was nice to see. Human beings walking around compared to the battlefield where they laid on the ground in a deep broken sleep. It was comforting to say in the least.

Home was in front of him now. His felt were growing heavy from the nerves and the constant eyeing. Now he could escape that. The knob turned under his grip giving a small creak as the door unfurled into the brightness of the hallway, the dim sun blinding his eyes for a moment before they readjusted. Ludwig took a step in and closed the door behind him, tucking the hat under his arm and proceeding to the living room to figure out where grandfather was.

Then everything froze.

His brother was sitting on the couch, the coffee table scattered with papers and another man sitting next to him, his finger landed on one of the lines before they both looked up at the same time when Ludwig entered the room. Gilbert's red eyes pierced through him, his platinum hair shining in the bright sunshine letting the creases of his face brimming with surprise. The other with bright, glaring blue eyes and longer blond hair that was pulled back into a ponytail, shock written and covered his face.

"Why is there a SS officer in your house?" the blond asked, his eyes locked on Ludwig. It was Francis, he recognized him. His brother's French friend, Francis Bonnefoy was his proper name. The accent was clear.

"Pfft," Gilbert laughed, standing up and walking towards the other blond, "he's not an SS officer! Ludwig, take off that silly jacket and stop playing around!"

"Little Ludwig..?" the Frenchman echoed. He appeared to be shocked.

"Ja!"

Ludwig's eyes locked onto the floor, shaking his head. He wasn't the crying type. So the tears did not flow. Secretly, Ludwig wished they did. He wished they could see that he honestly did not want this. This wasn't his choice. They would probably send him to the Russian or African front if he didn't accept the "honor". Then he would never see Gilbert ever again. He couldn't let another family member leave his family, no.

"Nein."

"Je vous demande pardon?" Francis asked, blinking from Gilbert and Ludwig. The older brother had retreated back with a stagger to the sofa.

The younger sibling refused to meet their eyes, finding that he was interested in the weather outside the window above the sofa rather than his brother and company.

"I've been promoted to Scharführer in the Schutzstaffel."

And with that the color drained out of Gilbert's and Francis' faces.

notes:

3,395 words for this chapter if you needed to know~ (including these notes)

Also, I used google translate for the translations into German and French since the only language I know is Spanish. And I got all my information about the uniforms for Ludwig from Wikipedia, yet again and sadly. The battle was made up too so watch out if something like that ever happened during 1942, I dunno know about it. I'll call it the Battle of the Damaged Rations.

Important note too! Due since there isn't much information on the SS and according to what I'm doing I'm going off of knowledge used in Wikipedia (other sites around too), so if you do know more about the SS, I would love to know. Thanks.

One more thing, if you think if I should tone it down on the mentions of Nazism (possible Communism and Fascism also for future reference) and the views of it, please tell me. The purpose of the fanfiction is to take the time period seriously and if you find it offending in any way, please do tell me.

**Anything Said Or Written In The Fanfiction Are Possibly The Views And Beliefs Of Fictional Characters And Do Not Reflect The Views Or Beliefs Of The Author**