Instructor Hans glanced at his watch. It was already midnight.
"The quick ones should arrive within ten minutes."
He turned toward a few other officers sitting at a table outside the barracks, sleeves rolled up, bellies hanging over their belts as they played cards.
Their laughter echoed through the quiet night.
Hans considered grabbing a beer himself, but before he could turn away, sothing moved at the edge of his vision.
He narrowed his eyes before reaching for a pair of binoculars.
"Hah, I don’t believe it. Perhaps the recruits aren’t getting worse every year after all."
There he was.
A single man, clad in the typical Bundeswehr camouflage uniform, a heavy backpack slung over his shoulders, yet running at an astonishing pace.
He looked strangely alone as he erged from the strip of forest.
Hans lowered the binoculars and waited.
A few monts later.
"Jaeger! Report!"
The young man before him was panting heavily, sweat pouring down his forehead. His black hair was drenched, sticking to his skin.
Yet he did not slump at all.
Sothing Hans deeply admired.
"Jaeger reports successful arrival at base, Sir!" he said, snapping into a salute.
Hans nodded.
"You may put down your backpack now. And tell , where is the rest?"
Paul shrugged off the backpack, the heavy fabric hitting the gravel with a dull thud.
Then he straightened once more.
"I don’t know, Sir. They weren’t within my field of view."
Hans began chuckling before bursting into loud laughter.
"Well, you can sit down, get so water, and grab sothing to eat. Everything is already prepared."
Paul nodded and walked past him.
Hans glanced at his watch again.
And again.
And again.
Slowly, irritation crept across his face.
Then finally, on the horizon, the first small group appeared.
"A full ten minutes later," Hans muttered, making them report once again.
One after another, small groups appeared, so barely walking while others stumbled forward in exhaustion.
"Report... report... report."
Hans glanced at the list lying on the table.
One was missing.
He rubbed his forehead before raising his voice.
"Can soone tell where Lehmann is?!"
The recruits, already sitting, drinking, or eating, exchanged uneasy glances.
No one answered.
"No one?!" Hans cursed loudly.
"Matthias, if he doesn’t arrive within ten minutes, prepare a search party," Hans said to one of the burly officers sitting at the table playing cards.
The man looked annoyed but nodded.
And so they waited.
Five minutes.
Eight minutes.
Nine minutes.
"Oh, and I forgot to ntion," Hans suddenly said, turning back toward the recruits, anger creeping into his voice.
"You will not be ranked by individual performance in this run, but by your combined ti."
He pointed at the exhausted n sitting nearby.
Everyone widened their eyes.
Including Paul.
"You are comrades. Rember that."
"There, Sir!" one of the recruits suddenly shouted, pointing into the distance.
And indeed, there he was.
Skinny, pale, and trembling, barely able to stay on his feet as he stumbled out of the forest.
Hans narrowed his eyes, crossing his large arms.
Even from afar, the young man tilted left and right, struggling to keep himself upright. Already within reach of the barracks, he weakly stretched out an arm before collapsing.
Face first into the gravel.
Before Hans could say anything, a silhouette rushed past him.
"Jaeger?" Hans called out, eyes widening.
"No one is to help..."
But Paul was already sprinting toward the collapsed recruit with astonishing speed.
When he reached him, he grabbed Werner by the arms and pulled him back onto his feet.
"Thank you," Werner whispered weakly.
Paul grabbed his backpack.
"Don’t be," he said flatly. "You’re dragging all of us down. I just don’t want to fail. That’s all."
Without waiting for an answer, Paul turned and began walking back.
Werner hesitated for only a mont before quietly following behind.
Back toward the camp.
"Explain yourselves! Both of you!" Hans roared, glaring at the two greenhorns standing at attention before him.
"It is my fault, Sir," Werner said quietly.
"What? I didn’t hear you!" Hans barked, spit nearly reaching Paul, who subtly tilted his head to avoid getting hit.
Hans imdiately shifted his attention toward Paul.
"And you?! I clearly ordered no one to help, yet you defied a direct command."
"There is no excuse, Sir," Paul replied, staring straight ahead.
Hans stepped closer until he stood directly in front of him.
"Yet you did damn well. Astonishingly so."
For the first ti, Paul widened his eyes in surprise.
But before he could say anything, Hans cut him off.
"You still disobeyed my orders."
He glanced toward the sky.
Rain had begun to fall.
"Both of you will stand here at attention for the next hour."
His gaze shifted between Werner and Paul.
"And Jaeger..." Hans paused.
"You should consider joining the army professionally instead of just serving through conscription."
A faint grin crossed his face.
"You’re a born soldier."
Then he looked toward Werner. The grin vanished.
"As for you..."
"You are not."
And with that, Hans turned and left, leaving the two n completely alone as the downpour grew heavier.
"Thank yo..."
"I already told you not to," Paul interrupted sharply.
He tilted his head slightly, finally eting Werner’s eyes.
Yet there was already sothing there.
Sothing no words could erase.
Gratitude.
And so they stood there.
Quietly.
Rain soaking through their uniforms, the cold slowly creeping into their bones.
Paul’s face remained grim, filled with irritation and quiet resentnt.
Werner’s, however, was entirely different.
Almost happy.
Subtly so.
For one simple reason.
He had finally found a friend.
Paul would refuse to call him that for a long ti.
Yet the gratitude in Werner’s eyes never disappeared...
Six months later
Paul stepped through the gates of the barracks, a strange mix of relief and frustration lingering in his chest.
He had learned a lot.
Yet year had still felt like an eternity.
Finally, his military service had co to an end.
"Hey!"
Paul heard a voice calling from behind.
He sighed and quickened his pace.
"Friend, wait!"
Paul stopped and slowly turned around, watching the young man jogging toward him.
"Werner, I already told yo..."
Paul paused mid-sentence and shook his head.
Sohow, correcting him no longer felt worth the effort.
"So, what are you gonna do now?" Werner asked enthusiastically as he walked beside him.
"Work in the family business, I guess," Paul muttered.
"And that is?" Werner asked curiously.
Paul hesitated.
"It’s complicated."
He shoved his hands into his pockets.
"My family has a very...very long history. But essentially..."
He glanced sideways at Werner.
"We’re treasure hunters."
Werner stopped dead in his tracks.
"What?!" he blurted out. "That’s so damn cool! Why have you never told ?!"
Paul simply shrugged.
For a long mont, he looked at Werner while the man kept rambling excitedly beside him.
He barely listened.
Instead, he found himself thinking.
Loyal.
Hardworking.
Honest.
"Do you..." Paul suddenly began.
Werner stopped talking imdiately.
"Want to work for ?"
Once again.
The gratitude.
Paul saw it.
And still, he never truly understood it...
Present
Nearly the sa eyes.
The sa gaze.
But not the sa people.
Not anymore.
Rain rolled down faces that had already endured far too much.
A heavy silence stretched between them.
"How are you, old friend?"
Paul finally whispered, with an atypical lancholic gaze.
Werner turned toward him.
The shock on his face still lingered, yet sohow, in that mont, it no longer seed to matter.
"Finnaly you decided to call that?"
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