Free Fireshadow by Anthony Eaton

don’t you think?’
    â€˜Silly?’
    â€˜This war. Pretending that you’re still fighting it, right out here in the bush. Don’t you think it’s a waste of energy?’
    He stiffened. ‘Not at all.’
    â€˜Well, I think it is.’
    Erich stood, careful as he did so to keep his stance military and correct.
    â€˜If you will excuse me, I should see if the doctor requires me.’
    The door swung hard into its frame behind him.
    Inside, Günter and the doctor were playing some sort of card game that they had managed to work out despite the language barrier. They were silent, yet communicating clearly through the slap of the cards on the table rigged beside the bed.
    â€˜Erich.’ Doctor Alexander looked up from his hand. ‘Join us?’
    â€˜No, thank you, Herr Doctor. I will continue my study in here’ – a disdainful glance back in the direction of the door – ‘where it is a little more silent.’
    â€˜Something is bothering you out there?’
    â€˜No, sir. It is just that I . . . just too noisy.’
    Settling by the stove, Erich opened his book and made as if to read.
    â€˜You know, Erich, it would be good for you to talk to Alice sometimes.’
    â€˜Excuse me, Doctor?’
    â€˜She would be a good friend for you here. Especially given the similarity in your ages.’
    â€˜I am afraid that apart from that we have very little in common, sir.’
    â€˜You might be surprised.’
    Günter, lying and listening, asked in German, ‘You have found a sweetheart, no?’
    Erich stared coldly at the man. ‘No.’
    â€˜Why not?’
    â€˜Because she is the enemy.’
    â€˜Ah, yes, that.’ Günter shook his head in mock sadness.
    â€˜And this from the boy who told me that he knew so much about love.’
    â€˜That was just to make you eat.’
    â€˜Well, it worked, so what you said must have been correct. If a woman can look past something like a missing limb, do you really think a little thing like being her enemy will be a problem?’
    â€˜What is he saying?’ interrupted the doctor.
    â€˜Nothing. He is being stupid.’ Then he added in German, to make sure that Günter understood, ‘ Ein dummkopf !’
    â€˜Doctor . . .’ Günter’s English was halting and broken. ‘I tell boy to open his eyes, see past . . .’ He paused, searching for the word.
    â€˜See past?’ Doctor Alexander prompted.
    â€˜To see past war. See real people.’ Erich thought he caught a wink pass between the amputee soldier and the old doctor. Günter was grinning.
    â€˜That’s good advice, Günter.’ The doctor was smiling slightly himself. ‘Very good advice indeed. And he could start with my grand-daughter.’
    â€˜May I be excused, sir. To the latrine.’
    â€˜Of course.’
    Alice was still sitting on the step, reading. Erich stormed past without a word.
    In the latrine, he considered his anger. Why did they all insist on unsettling him like this? And Günter, who should have been his ally, was the worst – he’d forgotten about national pride, about the future of the greater Germany, everything taught at school and in the Hitlerjugend . What was the point? If his father were here . . .
    Erich shook his head, stifling that line of thought before it had a chance to germinate. His father was half the problem. If Erich closed his eyes for a second his father was there before him, as clear as day, his uniform shirt, neatly pressed jacket dripping with decorations and commendations, the iron cross at his throat. How many times had Erich listened to his father speak of their family, and the pride in his voice as he told his son of the bravery of his grandfather, and of his own adventures during the first world war, and of the importance of being loyal to your country, of always being a soldier, even in peacetime.
    This was his