Stolz Und Blut

Bastian Hertz comes down the earthenworks and halts behind his brother. "You did a hell of a job out there, Heinrich," he says quietly. "Better than I'd expected."

Heinrich looks over at his brother, "Did I?" he wonders, looking at the man long, eyes a little narrowed- his brother, giving a compliment? Curious. "I was scared shitless." he says, honestly. "That tank- right there, over the trench… "

"It was." Bastian flexes his hand around a shovel, enjoying the feel of it not being /entirely/ bandaged anymore. "And you stayed low and quiet, just the way you should." The spade is stabbed into the side of the trench, but it's left there. "You'll make a fine soldier, Heinrich." He even manages to not look dyspeptic when saying that.

Heinrich nods quietly. "I'll try. I want to make Father proud." he says quietly. He looks at his brother. "So. What brings you to our toy-trenches today?" he wonders, with a little grin.

"Toy? No, they're rather good, all in all." Bastian takes a deep breath, then stalls further by fishing out his usual rumpled pack of smokes. One of the worse-for-wear smokes is offfered to his brother regardless. "I mean that, Heinrich. You've earned my respect. I hope you don't think I'm saying that just because I need a favour of you."
Heinrich nods quietly, as he thinks for a moment. He takes the cigarette- and out comes his lighter. The one Father gave him when he joined the SS. "How can I help you, brother?" he wonders as he pauses a moment, looking at his older brother curiously. Quietly.

"I want to join the SS." The deep sigh is hidden by a long drag on his cigarette. "The actual transfer might take some work, I realize." Bastian chuckles, an almost childlike noise. "The Heer will, of course, fight it every step of the way if only on principle. But I'm a party member, like you, and our genetic history isn't an issue. I know my hair made it tough for you to join," the redhead admits, "but with the numbers Himmler's looking for…"
Heinrich listens quietly, thinking to himself. "I don't know what I can do, Brother- but if one needs to know the content of your character… I will give my oath." he says softly. "But… I make no promises."

Bastian Hertz claps his brother on the shoulder, smiling faintly through his grave face. "It's all I can ask, Heinrich. Your word has always come with a bareknuckle guarantee. I have always respected that in you." Rather surprisingly, his nose isn't the rosy, drunken thing one would expect to accompany such words.

Heinrich gives a little smile over to Bastian. "It would be good, and Father would be proud you know. To have two sons in Hitler's private bodyguards. The new warriors. And.. You would be more my brother than ever before." he smiles quietly. "So. What made you change your mind?"

Bastian Hertz squeezes the SS man's shoulder. "Wisdom, little brother. The SS has a want of experience only equalled by its surpluse of courage." He rolls his shoulders back to allow for a deeper breath. "It is the duty of all Germanseven Deutschevolk from outside the borders that could not contain our powerful bloodto use our talents as best we can. It would be dereliction of my duty to the Volk if I didn't at least attempt to give my all to the brave SS men. If the SS will not take me, I am proud to serve alongside them, of course. But if I am deemed suitable to train them, to fight with them shoulder to shoulder…" A sigh is shuddered, the corner of his lips masked by the smouldering cigarette. "That, my brother, would be best for all we hold dear, wouldn't it?"

Heinrich pauses a moment, as he just stares at his brother- this… is unlike him. "Did something happen?" he wonders quietly, as he just stares a moment longer. "What happened?" he asks- truly concerned, as he nods. "If they let me in, they would want my brother too, I imagine. But, it might be difficult… I will talk to my commander. Perhaps if you present yourself to him, his words will carry more than mine."

"I expected as much, little brother. Please, if you don't mindI'll press your uniform of courseif you could arrange an appointment to introduce me to the Oberscharfuhrer…" A bow of the head, held for a long several moments, and then Bastian's face rises up. There's a sparkle in his eye and a little note to his voice. "My children would be most grateful."

Heinrich blinks quietly. "I'm sorry?.. Children?" he wonders as he smiles as he quietly just grins to his brother. "Have you been playing with the locals?"

"Only one of the thirty million Volksdeutsche stuck outside of Germany's borders." Bastian hisses around his cigarette. "She's of the blood, you can… you can feel it in her mere presence. And she's also a member of one of those German ethnic clubs I donate to. Well, I never gave to /this/ one," he corrects, "but you understand. I'm going to bless her with a good German surname to replace the Polish vomit-noise her family has been cursed with here, Heinrich, and then good, strong German children." The man nods, serious for once.

Heinrich's eyes are wide, as he shakes his head a bit. "Don't let them know about her." he says simply as he keeps digging all of a sudden. "Keep it totally silent, Brother. Only you and I know about it- do you understand?" he asks, looking at his brother with serious eyes. "Wait, until you mention it."

Bastian's lips curl up in a wry grin, his appreciation of irony coming into play. "Oh but she brings everything into such clear /focus/, Heinrich!" Hands mimic adjusting binoculars, then grip his shovel. "I feel motivated to DO things! This golden flower in the wastes has inspired me as to my worth. She makes me /proud/ to be German—actively, not just the normal pride all Germans live with. SS pride," he adds in a reverant, breathy tone. There's a pause, then Bastian sets into digging and matter-of-factly states, "My Feldwebel also just put her in the stockade awaiting interrogation, so there's little hiding it now."

Heinrich nods quietly. "Well. We will do our best then. Perhaps we can spin it as nobility of spirit." he says, looking down. Sure, he's likely to punch first- but Heinrich is not stupid, oh no…

Bastian Hertz wrinkles his nose. The shovel goes into the dirt, but it doesn't come out. "You skate on very thin ice, dear brother," he says in a low, slow tone. Eyes are narrowed on the younger brother, an aggressive tilt to his stance rarely seen.

Heinrich looks over to Bastian. "Brother. There are things about us you do not yet know. Things you can not know, until you are one of us. Trust me in this, sometimes… there is a reason for me to say this to you." his eyes are not narrowed. "It is for the best." he whispers quietly, his voice not above a whisper now- no. He is very quiet. "I can't not explain, but you will understand maybe later." he nods to the other man. "Just trust me, Brother."

Bastian Hertz takes a long, deep breath. "There is no need to spin. My pride has been awakened." Snatching up the shovel, the scout gets to work. "Were you not trying to help, were you not my brother, I would have returned the wound to you."
Heinrich Shakes his head quietly to Bastian. "Brother. I doubt you could take me." he says, as he continues to dig and work on the Trench. "Do not spare me, with your pride… With my place. Don't do it for a sense of loyalty. Just hit me, if you want to hit me."

"You were speaking from the perspective of a critical SS investigator whose duty it is to weed out pretenders. There is no insult." Bastian lays a shovelful of dirt aside, then rolls up his sleeves. "I'll hit you to make me stronger, though!" Flashing a grin, the elder Hertz darts in at the younger."

Bastian Hertz is hardly a match for his brother, at least on the physical side of things. And, though he's usually quite good at extrapolation and reasoning, Bastian can't seem to figure out how he ended up staring at the night sky through a slit no bigger than his body. He's not even sure who's making the weak, very confused moan that warbles up from the bottom of the trench.
Heinrich jumps down into the Trench, and helps his brother sit up, giving a loud laugh. "Bastian." he snaps his fingers a few times, and slaps him on the cheeks. "I guess you were not expecting it, no?" he shakes his head. "You should know I will not take it easy on you." he smiles, as he helps his brother stand- even if he doesn't want to.

Bastian… there's a reason that name is familiar. Ah! Yes! It's self, and body, and mind, and identity, and all this thinking is really starting to hurt. The embarassment of being laid out so easily is equally painful. "They say it's best to learn from harsh experience," he offers philosophically, voice and stance equally unsteady.
Heinrich nods quietly. "Well. Now I owe you a beer." he nods, as he offers his brother one of his own cigarettes. Smiling quietly. "Smoke?"

His head drops, but doesn't come back up with so much vigor. "Yeah… yeah that'd be great." Bastian pats his belt several times, finally finding the canteen. A splash of water (possibly not part of his plan) and a gulp later, he's looking much better.
Heinrich shakes his head, as he lights the cigarette for BAstian- and puts it in his mouth for him. "There you go. Smoke up, good for you. That's some German Oxygen for you, yes?" he laughs, as he leans the half-knocked out man against the side of the trench, and is careful with his brother. He's done this before, with sparring partners.

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