Europa Ascendant

8/13/2019 Europa Ascendant

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"Undoubtedly this is the most stupid, senseless and unnecessary war of modern times. It is a

war not wanted by Germany, I can assure you, but it was forced on us, and the fact that we

were so effectually prepared to defend ourselves is now being used as an argument to

convince the world that we desired conflict."

-

Crown Prince Wilhelm of theHouse of Hohenzollern
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/House_of_Hohenzollernhttp://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/House_of_Hohenzollern


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Prologue: The Man in the Corner

Oktober 1918, Field Hospital, outskirts of Munich

Screams


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1.

But no screams we may recognise today. Muffled, throaty wails, part screaming, part choking

filled the large hospital ward outside Munich. Doctor Klaus Teuber walked down the rows ofbeds, each filled with a young man; heads bandaged, many vomiting. Nothing had prepared

him for this. Certainly not the six years of medical training he had under gone. Not even his

firsthand experience at Ypres with the bloody chlorine gas. The pain, the suffering, thewar.

What he was witnessing was the first effects of mustard gas, and it terrified him. These proud

men who fought, and continued to fight for their Emperor, his Emperor, were reduced to

writhing...corpses.

White Star. Thats what the French had named theirs, thought Klause.An honourable

moniker, for an ignoble act. But what did the British call ours when we aimed the chlorine at

their lines? Hed heard the nickname used so many times at Ypres. Hun Stuff? It wassomething darkly humorous like that. Very Britishthought the young doctor.

Herr Doktor?

Teuber shook the thought from his mind and addressed his head nurse, Frulein Weidner, in a

hushed whisper.

Frulein, ein Problem?

Scheie! A poor choice of words. Withproblems multiplying around me quicker than I can

draw breath.

DoktorTeuber, the Mdchen from Munich are here to...offer their expertise. She said the

last word even more quietly than when she had first started but without a hint of sarcasm.

God in Heaven. It was only then that Teuber noticed the 3 women...girls,behind beautiful

Inga Weidner. None could have been more than sixteen. I beg Munich for more nurses and

this is all the Reich can muster? This is all we have left?

Doktor Teuber said the foremost of the girls, whats happened to these men? No bullets

wounds, no visible injuries. Whats....happened?

The young nurse was met by a cold Teutonic stare. Teuber shook off his discontent at the

girl. I cant possibly be angry at her for her age. Can I? No. Im angry at Germany for

having nothing more to offer me. To offer these men. Klause summoned the last reserves of

his civility and tried to smile.All that matters now is..containment.

Lieber Kinder...these men are the first victims of mustard gas attacks by the British and

Belgians. Many here have been blinded by the effects. We dont know if its permanent.

More still feel like they are choking, being suffocated by their own fluids...


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When the soldier closest to the small group stirred it blessedly interrupted Klauses hasty and

oversimplified explanation of Ward D. Teuber only noticed this smallest of movements,

because the young man on the cot was clearly conscious yet was not wailing or begging for

his mother. His eyes, unbandaged, had remained open though he clearly couldnt see. Inga

went to the end of the bed and picked up the mans vitals sheet. She laid what she hoped wasa comforting palm on the soldiers bedding and walked back to the small assembled group.

Der...Hauptmann...is in pain ladies. We do not really know what we can do for them. And

these are only the first. More are scheduled later today and then again on Thursday. Ingas

voice was barely a whisper now.

What would you have us doHerr Doktor? asked the oldestof the girls. Ingas eyes were as

imploring as the 3 girls from Munich.

Jesus thought Teuber, how can I be thinking of any of these girls as the oldest? They

shouldnt have to see this. I shouldnt have to see this. These men....The sternness with whichTeuber spoke surprised even him. The doctor in him was back and he knew that the four

women were looking to him for direction. Containment.

Ladies, Inga you too. Go and speak to whoever is conscious. To whomever you think your

voice may bring some comfort. Dont touch any of them. I dont yet know if the symptoms

are contagious. Its possible that traces of the gas irritant may linger in the mens blisters. I

need...time.

The doctor tried to convey a sense of normality to his instructions. He somewhat succeeded.

The 3 young ladies made their way to various bedsides. Inga pulled up a stool closest to theyoung captain whose vitals shed read. As she slid onto the stool the soldiers chest

contracted and a great spluttering cough wheezed from his mouth.

Klause! Inga stammered in theloudest voice she could muster.Not Herr Doktor this time.

Teuber spun on his heel and ran to the bedside but the mans chest neither rose nor fell, and

the hideous pulse the doctor could see in all the soldiers necks had stopped. Scheie!

Inga. Quietly, get the orderlies from Ward D or failing that, wherever you can find them.

Start at D. Bring them back here and get the departed to the field morgue. Sofort.

He took her by the arm and ushered her into the annex of the ward. Teubers hand fell to his

side. Sweat started to bead on his brow.

Inga, this gas, it hasnt been used before and certainly couldnt have been tested by the

British before now. It is clearly more potent and debilitating than the chlorine gases weve

deployed. We must keep it as quiet as possible that the effects of this gas can kill. You

understand, ja?Containment.

To keep from a panic in the ward Doktor? Inga asked.


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The change in Teubers voice took Inga by surprise. Teuber had done his time on the front,

same as many surgeons before he had been recalled to man the increasingly common

makeshift hospitals which were springing up with alarming suddenness outside major

German cities. Having served his time in a field hospital on the front, having witnessed the

first death from the gas, Teuber knew that word of the gass potency....

Inga what I ask you to do now I ask you in the name of our Emperor.

His statement had the desired effect on the young nurse. Eyes wide, Teuber clearly had her

attention. To preface any request in the name of the emperor, if agreed upon, was an oath

during this war.

Word of this cannot get out. If our soldiers, still fighting, hear of what this can do there will

be a panic much greater than just this ward. Morale will break and with it the front. If the

British discover reliable accounts of its full effects, itll be far worse. As far as I know, we

have nothing of this devastating magnitude with which to respond. Word does not get out thatthe effects can be fatal. Teuber paused.

To describe the look on Ingas face as conflictedwas insufficient in Teubers mind. Her brow

furrowed hiding her ice blue eyes. The very picture of Germanic stoicism.Teuber wouldnt

let it show, couldntlet it show, but he felt as sick as the men in the ward behind him. Yet his

sickness was caused by his request, far less glorious than the actions of the men he was

charged with keeping alive.

By your order Herr Doktor and in our Emperors name whispered Inga.

For the first time in as long as he could remember, Teuber let just the hint of a smile escape

the corners of his lips. Teuber knew, as intelligent men sometimes do, that that to which Inga

had sworn, had nothing to do with the Wilhelm II, Emperor of Germany and its people. No.

Inga had sworn because the doctor had asked his nurse, her, to do something for the war

effort. She was the nurse, Teuber the surgeon. It was that simple to Inga. Teuber knew that it

was so and respected that. What Klause didnt know, and what will often escape intelligent

men is that Inga knew he knew.

Danke Inga. Go. Get the orderlies. And Inga?

A vision of everything for which the German soldier fought, bleed and was gassed Inga

turned, beautiful as ever and spoke.

I know Herr Doktor. Of bullet wounds. Thats how he died.

The young nurse hurried down the corridor away from Klause and the annex and left the

doctor standing alone with nothing but the muffled screams around him for solace. I cant

listen to this. Ten minutes, thats all he needed. A reprieve. God, the exhaustion would kill

him as surely as the mustard gas. The chief-surgeon. He would go and report to the chief-

surgeon. The short walk would take him through the courtyard, a muddied, boot trodden

patch of earth with nothing in it. A glorified marshalling area. The field hospitals courtyard.


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Jesus, thought Klause as he exited through Ward Ds door and into the increasingly cold

Autumn air.Even the vocabulary we use during the war has changed. Glorifying everything

in sight. Courtyard! At least he could smoke on the way.

As he strode through the mud he fumbled in his scrubs for his lighter. Finding it, he bent his

head to protect the flame from the rising wind, and the Imperial Eagle embossed on the

lighter caught the faint light of Munichs pale morning sun. And it shone. Brilliantly. The

young doctor drew on the cigarette and buried the lighter deeply in his pocket.At least I can

smoke. Small reprieve.

The Doktor didnt know, couldnt have known, but by the time he was brea thing in the first

drag on his smoke, the death toll in Ward D had already doubled. In bed 17, furthest from the

wards door, a young corporal sucked in his last breath. He neither screamed nor tore at his

bandaged eyes nor convulsed. He simply expired, with thoughts of home carrying him to

oblivion. A home far closer than a majority of his corpse-like brethren. An unremarkable

death bestowed upon an unremarkable soldier. Dignified in a morbid way, with no

Bliztmdchen to hear his last thoughts or watch as he slipped away. The second man to die

that morning in Ward D did so in silence. Alone. It was over half an hour before one of the

girls from Munich noticed he had died. The man in the corner.

2.

Sehr geehrte Dame,

I write to inform you that your son, in service to Germany and our Emperor, has paid the

ultimate price and given his life for the war effort. He died valiantly, defiant in his stoicism

refusing to turn his back on our enemy.

Meine Dame, we have never met and I am now deviating from the standard grievance letter

to tell you that I knew your son personally. He was not a remarkable soldier, but therein laid

his quality. He did his part for the war without complaint and to the best of his ability. Would

that more Imperial soldiers were made in your sons image, the war may already be won.

Nothing I can write can take away the pain of losing a son. But please find some solace in the

fact that your son was well liked by his brother soldiers and was respected by the officers for

whom he ran vital correspondence.

For Germany and our Emperor,

Signed LeutnantErnst Moritz Hess, 2nd Royal Bavarian Reserve Infantry

I am so sorry for your loss, Frau Hitler

And with a single bereavement letter to a mother mourning the loss of a son who died alone,

in a corner, the lines between that which was, and that which could have been begin to blur.And the fate of an entire continent, bled dry by war, rests in the balance.


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