Note: This is a rare case where today's date (November 4th) aligns with the story. The events of last chapter, this chapter, and the next all take place on November 4, 1944.

--

Eren returned to the hotel feeling invigorated by the long walk in the drizzling rain. He was amazed that this was the first time his heart truly felt uplifted since Levi left.

Armin was right: he needed Levi.

For now, knowing he was safe was enough.

He entered the foyer and began to trot up the staircase when someone bellowed out, "Yo, Eren! What's the rush?"

Eren came to a sharp stop and looked around. He saw Reiner and burst into a smile. "Is it Saturday already?"

The brawny blond teased, "Don't tell me your head is still so messed up, you don't know the day."

Eren went back down the stairs and walked over to him. "It's been a rough week. I'm more than ready to drink until I forget it all."

"That's the spirit! Invite the whole platoon."

Eren flinched and admitted, "There's only three left."

"Well then, invite them all. Your platoon, your officer buddies, everyone you know. I already asked some of the men from the SS to show up. Hey, you with the glasses," he yelled to Surma, who was returning with an armload of books. "Knock on every door. Invite all the lieutenants. I want to fill the tavern until we can't move without knocking into someone's beer!"

While Eren used the hotel's telephone to call up Floch to bring the rest of the platoon in the car, Surma went upstairs and returned with some of the officers. Jean came down with them. Ten minutes later, Floch arrived with the car filled with the remaining members of the platoon.

"Yo, Eren!" Connie cried out as he ran into the hotel. He looked around at the elegant entryway. "So, this is where you've been staying. Amazing! Now I don't blame you for not hanging out with us in the barracks."

Floch counted out how many men had gathered. "I should have brought the Krupp Protze. Between the Kübelwagen and Reiner's car, we don't have enough room for everyone."

Daz laughed, "Sure we do! We'll put Eren on Reiner's lap."

"Hell no!" Eren shouted.

Reiner squatted slightly and patted his lap. "Come to Papa, Eren."

Eren gave him a push that sent him falling backwards, and the men burst into laughter.

They piled into the cars, squeezing in as tightly as they could, and headed out, singing songs and ready to celebrate with hedonistic irreverence to the death and destruction around them.

Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we may die.

* * *

They arrived at a beer hall that was already half filled with SS officers who all cheered when Reiner walked in. Eren laughed to see his childhood friend was so popular in his branch of the military.

Eren drank and ate until the night turned blurry. Reiner sang, and the men joined in. He sat with Jarnach, Connie, and Floch, toasting to the men they lost and singing about how glorious it was to die for one's homeland.

Eren drank more heavily than he had in over a month, with the men cheering him on like his ability to drink beer after beer was a testament to his manhood. He joined in with Reiner, their arms flung around each other, swaying to songs.

It should have been a fun night, but in truth, with each beer Eren wished the world around him would finally vanish so he could escape the pain. He could not help but remember brighter days with all of his men sighing over Reiner's melodic voice.

He would never sit around with them again.

Jarnach had a much lower tolerance, and Floch had to drive him back after he vomited in a toilet. Connie was singing loudly with Reiner, and Eren found himself alone. He stared at his beer stein.

He was going to slip into the nightmares if he kept this up. He needed to talk to someone, anyone.

He glanced around and saw Jean also alone. He realized Jean had a wedge of lemon with him and was sniffing it. So, he also was having trouble tonight.

Eren got up and started to walk over, but the whole room suddenly tipped. He stumbled and sloshed some of his beer out onto his uniform.

Connie laughed raucously and yelled over the crowd, "Jäger's finally getting drunk!"

Eren took a moment to regain his balance, then slowly continued on until he collapsed onto the chair next to Jean.

"You look sad."

Jean glared over at him. "And you look ready to pass out."

"That's the plan," Eren said as he took another drink. "Where's Annie?"

"She caught a cold."

"You should go feed her some soup like a good little hubby."

"Screw you. I'm surprised you're spending your night with us and not with your wife."

Eren glanced around, but the music drowned out their voices. "He's gone. We had an argument a few days ago. He hasn't been back."

"You broke up? Good! You shouldn't be around him, for your own safety. Men like us are better without a lover to worry about. As Hitler said, 'The strong man is mightiest alone.'"

"Aww, Annie would be so sad to hear you say that."

"Annie is all I can think about these days," he grumbled. "I know it must be making me weak. All I want to do is run over there and be by her side, but she didn't want me to catch her cold."

"How sweet of her!"

Jean rolled his eyes, although his cheeks flushed.

Eren fell silent as he heard Reiner singing a different song.

* * *

https://youtu.be/LdkBRG32mTs

All mein' Gedanken, die ich hab,
Die sind bei dir.
Du auserwählter ein'ger Trost,
Bleib stets bei mir.
Du, du, du sollst an mich gedenken.
Hätt ich aller Wünsch' Gewalt,
Von dir wollt ich nicht wenken.

Du auserwählter ein'ger Trost,
Gedenk daran:
Mein Leib und Seel, das sollst du gar
Zu eigen han.
Dein, dein, dein will ich ewig bleiben:
Du gibst Kraft und hohen Mut,
Kannst all mein Leid vertreiben.

Die werte Rein', die ward sehr wein'n,
Da das geschah;
"Du bist mein und ich bin dein",
Sie traurig sprach.
Wann, wann, wann ich soll von dir weichen?
Ich nie erkannt' noch nimmermehr
Erkenn' ich deinesgleichen.

#

All the thoughts that I have
They are of you,
You, my chosen and only comfort,
Always stay with me.
You, you, you should think of me,
If I had the power to make all my wishes come true,
I would make sure to never leave you.

You, my chosen and only comfort,
Remember this:
My body and soul, you shall wholly have them
At your disposal.
Yours, yours, yours shall I remain forever,
You give me strength and high spirits,
Are able to dispel all of my sorrow.

The dear pure maiden wept bitterly
When this occurred:
'You are mine and I am yours,'
She said, full of sadness.
When, when, when could I ever leave you?
I've never met nor ever will
Know anyone else like you.

* * *

Jean growled softly, "Shit! Why does Reiner have to sing songs like that?" He saw the sagging despondency in Eren's face. "Stop it! If you go around looking like that, people are going to think your wife is sleeping with someone else. At least try not to look heartbroken."

"You're one to talk," Eren mumbled.

"It's the song. The song! Damn Reiner." He took a drink, paused, and muttered, "Not that I care, but ... what happened?"

Eren scowled. "We saw someone get shot."

"Greiz?"

Eren looked up in astonishment.

"I know you were there that day. I have a friend who was also there."

"You have friends?" Eren asked in mock surprise.

"Shut up. I know a guy in the Gestapo named Colt."

Eren's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "You know Colt Grice?"

"Our fathers were friends. He and I were never really close, but our families would travel to each other's houses for Christmas or birthday parties. A couple days ago, we were out drinking. The man can't hold his alcohol. He told me that they arrested a Resistance leader. A woman!"

Eren scowled. "Yeah, that's her."

"Do you know her?" Jean asked with distrust.

"She threatened to kill me once."

Jean frowned, not liking that Eren knew such dangerous people. "Colt said you were at the scene of the crime, you and your wife." He glanced around the beer hall, then leaned in close, and Eren leaned in too. "Be honest with me: did you or that guy have anything to do with Greiz's death?"

"No," Eren said right away. "I was ready to shoot that woman, but the Gestapo were already there."

Jean nodded solemnly. "Sorry for being suspicious but ... well, I hope you understand why I would be."

Sadly, Eren did understand. After all, he had called Levi a terrorist. That still stung his heart.

"According to Colt, the chief inspector has plans to break this woman."

"Break her?" Eren exclaimed softly.

"That's what the Gestapo do best, right? I hope she snaps quickly. I remember that woman Woermann interrogated. That was brutal!"

Eren closed his eyes as he could picture Caven again.

"According to Colt, what they think she's hiding is something big, way bigger than just a bunch of partisan trash."

Eren gulped, recalling how Yelena had been trying to rescue Nicolo, who had shouted to Eren about Zeke. "Big?" he asked casually. "Do you mean the French military? The government-in-exile?"

"More than that. Were you still around for the fire?"

"What fire?"

"Nicolo's restaurant. The whole thing went up in flames."

Eren gasped as his eyes widened.

"They're saying it was just a cooking fire, but Colt told me it started in a deep underground bunker, an SIS listening post. He definitely shouldn't have told me what he did," Jean muttered. "The Gestapo found a bunch of papers there, probably enough to crush the Allies altogether, but the minute they left the room, someone torched the whole place."

Eren stared ahead in awe. Levi! That must have been Levi's doing. He said he was going back to see what Nicolo knew about Zeke. It must have been enough for him to not leave any evidence behind.

"Colt said they believe someone high up in the British government was pulling strings right here in Metz, using the Resistance as a cover."

Eren stared down sharply into his stein. Someone high up in the British government? Zeke! Oh shit! "Maybe Colt was drunk and talking out his ass."

"Maybe. I hope so. If the British have agents right here in the city, manipulating French partisans, with American soldiers on our doorstep, we're fucked." He took a drink. "At least they caught her. One less terrorist bitch to stab us in the back."

Eren thought back to his conversation with Yelena's grandfather. "They're civilians."

"No!" Jean snapped. "Stop it. You did this before with that girl Woermann interrogated."

"You mean tortured," Eren mumbled.

"The French Resistance are nothing but a bunch of anti-fascist terrorists. They are our enemy. They chose to be combatants in this war when they took up arms against Germany. Sure, they may be nothing more than pawns, but a pawn can take a knight and topple a king." He put a hand on Eren's shoulder. "You're a knight. Don't be upset just because a single pawn fell."

Eren's eyes coldly turned up to him. "That's the sort of bullshit Hauptmann Woermann would say."

"Then maybe that means I make a better officer than you."

Eren sank into his beer. "You probably do. Maybe the military is the wrong career for me."

"Don't you dare say that! Not when we're in the middle of battle."

Eren shook his head slowly. He recalled what Louise's grandfather had said, 'Germany is rotten, and even if you are a good apple, you're in with a bad barrel. The longer you stay with them, the more the rot gets to you.' He felt like he had been in the army for too long. Day after day, balancing what the Nazi Party wanted, what his commanders demanded, and how he felt deep inside was getting harder and harder.

"Look," Jean whispered, glancing around to make sure no one was focused on them. "We both know you make a lousy officer."

Eren shot him a scathing glare.

"Granted, you're brave to the point of being stupid, and that bravado got us out of Anzio, but you even admitted, you're not the sort of man who can make a hard decision. If the only way to stop a thousand German soldiers from dying was to destroy one village of a hundred French civilians, that's not a command you'd be willing to give."

"They're civilians."

"They're the enemy!"

"Jus in bello."

Jean jolted. "What the hell does that mean?"

"Surely, you learned the Just War Theory when you were training to be an officer."

Jean shook his head. "I have no clue what you're talking about."

Eren was about to mock him, but as he thought back, this was not something he learned in the military. It was Hannes who taught him about what makes warfare righteous. Maybe he was teaching Eren because Hannes already knew that the German military was heading in the opposite direction, ignoring ethics, and rewarding actions that used to be war crimes.

Eren took another drink and muttered, "War used to be honorable. When did we decide that morals were a bad thing and having a conscience was a weakness?"

Jean joined him for a drink. "I don't know what you were taught, but what I've been told more times than I can remember is that, whatever it takes, we have to strive for victory and crush any who oppose us."

"It feels like the whole world hates us now. Do we flatten and burn the entire Earth, so long as Germany comes out on top?"

"We hit them hard enough until they give up the will to fight."

"Even if that means stomping on the dreams of innocent people?"

Jean hid his mouth down into his beer stein. "We've been at war for five years. No one is innocent anymore."

Eren shook his head. "That's not a just war."

"It's a Nazi war. If you can't get that through your thick skull, then when the war is over, do us all a favor and quit. Go be an accountant or something. For right now, the best you or I can do is fight the way they tell us to fight and try not to think about it, because the minute we do..." Jean lifted the lemon wedge up to his nose, trying to keep the memories of horror away.

Eren stared ahead. He wondered what Hannes would say about this. He had always seemed like the sort of man who would lower his gun if he realized the target was nothing more than an innocent civilian.

Maybe that was the way soldiers used to be.

Maybe Jean was right: flattening the world to save one's own country was the Nazi way.

That was not the sort of soldier he wanted to become, but what if it was the sort of soldier Germany needed?

Jean's eyes narrowed at Eren. "So, is that why you two fought? Over some French Resistance bitch?"

"Not over her. That woman was ... well, not a friend—they hated each other—but at least someone he knew, someone who protected him. After we saw her shoot Greiz, he said he wanted to go back to the Resistance—run right back to them, after he saw what sort of murderers they are—and we got in a fight. He left, and now I'm out here drinking, trying to forget him." Eren lifted his mug and gulped down the entire thing. He waved to a waitress and shouted at her to refill his beer.

Jean pouted, but he kept quiet until Eren had his refill and the waitress was gone. His voice was low as he said, "Not that I'm taking his side, but ... you do realize, he can't stay with you, right? Especially not a ... a man like that," he said, knowing he could not say the word Jew, not even as a whisper. "Where else has he got to go? Of course he's going to return to them. The Gestapo knows you were there. He'd be foolish to go anywhere near you right now."

Eren took a sip of his beer and chuckled bitterly into it. "If I didn't know you better, I'd say you were defending him."

"I'm not. I'm saying he made a smart call, and you're an idiot."

"Go to hell."

Jean raised his glass. "To the idiots who lead us today, the friends we lost yesterday, and the families we'll raise in the future."

Eren raised his glass. "To a dozen German-Russian babies."

Jean barked out a laugh. "I'll drink to that and try to get a good start while I can!"

Eren was glad to see Jean looking slightly better. "We need to take our minds off this crap. Hey, Reiner," he shouted out. "Jean needs a song to cheer him up."

"Fuck you. I'm fine."

Reiner looked over. "Kirschtein, pick what's our next song."

Jean rolled his eyes.

"Go on," Eren urged. "A song you'd sing to Annie, or a song to honor your men. Maybe your mother's favorite song."

A small smile touched Jean's lips. "There is one my mother loves." He began to sing. "Bunt sind schon die Wälder..."

Immediately, the entire tavern picked up the old folk song about autumn's beauty, the colorful change of the seasons, and the bounty of harvest. As the rain outside pattered a cold rhythm, inside the soldiers boisterously celebrated autumn in all its glory.

* * *

https://youtu.be/iF_zOlrMXRc

Bunt sind schon die Wälder,
gelb die Stoppelfelder,
und der Herbst beginnt.
Rote Blätter fallen,
graue Nebel wallen,
kühler weht der Wind.

Wie die volle Traube
aus dem Rebenlaube
purpurfarbig strahlt!
Am Geländer reifen
Pfirsiche, mit Streifen
rot und weiß bemalt.

Flinke Träger springen,
und die Mädchen singen,
alles jubelt froh!
Bunte Bänder schweben
zwischen hohen Reben
auf dem Hut von Stroh.

Geige tönt und Flöte
bei der Abendröte
und im Mondesglanz;
junge Winzerinnen
winken und beginnen
frohen Erntetanz.

#

The forests are already colorful,
the harvested fields are yellow,
and autumn is beginning.
Red leaves fall,
gray fog billows,
the wind blows cooler.

How the ripe grapes
on the vine bower
shine a purple color!
On the trellis, ripened
peaches with stripes
colored red and white.

Nimble porters jump,
and the girls sing,
everyone cheers happily!
Colorful ribbons float
between the high vines
on the straw hat.

Violin sounds and flute
at sunset
and in the moonlight.
Young winemakers
beckon and begin
a happy harvest dance.

* * *

After the song, Eren gulped down the last of his beer and started to stand up.

"Leaving so soon?" asked Jean. "I thought you were going to drink until you black out."

"I think they've watered down the beer again. If I drink much more, my bladder will explode. Besides, tomorrow is Sunday. I want to go to church and pray for my men."

"So religious!"

"More than you," Eren shot back.

"You should at least wait until Floch comes back. You're going to pass out in a gutter and freeze to death."

Eren mumbled under his breath, "Sounds good to me." Louder, he said, "Thanks for hanging out with the platoon, or what's left of it. God knows why, but they like you."

"Because I'm amazing and make a better leader than you tenfold," Jean boasted.

"Go fuck a dog."

"Oh! Talking about fucking, I heard a good joke."

"I already know I don't want to hear it," Eren said, hastily slapping down some money for the bartender.

Loud enough for the beer hall to hear, Jean yelled, "Was ist der Unterschied zwischen einer acht und einer achtzehnjährigen Blondine?" What is the difference between an eight-year-old and an eighteen-year-old blonde?

Eren began to walk away, knowing he did not want to hear one of Jean's vulgar jokes. He had heard enough in Paris, and they could get horrible.

"Die achtjährig schwänzt die Schule und die achtzehnjährigen schult die Schwänze!" The eight-year-old skips school and the eighteen-year-old schools dicks!

The tavern roared with laughs, but Eren just rolled his eyes.

Daz jumped up onto a table. "An Aryan and a Jew meet at a lake."

Already, the beer hall echoed with shouts. All Jewish jokes were appreciated. Eren scowled and tried to leave swiftly before he could hear whatever hateful thing was about to be said.

"After several drinks, the Jew gets up, takes off his trousers, puts his penis in the water and says: 'Exactly 22.04 degrees water temperature.' The Aryan imitates him, dips his penis into the water and says: 'And exactly 1.92 meters deep!'"

Eren cringed, but the soldiers all around him burst into roaring laughter.

Just then, the doors to the tavern opened, and a woman sauntered in. "Did I hear someone talking about a penis?"

Eren let out a groan. Just what he needed: the brothel madam.

Sure enough, Madame Carly's entrance was followed by a lineup of girls who immediately walked up to some of the soldiers and began to rub against them. The drunken men ogled them and hooted.

"These women are for the enlisted. You'll have to take turns, gentlemen. Officers can come back to the brothel." Carly walked right up to Eren. "I have some ... special entertainment there." She winked at him.

Eren's mouth dropped. He lipped silently, 'Levi?' to which Carly smirked.

Jean laughed and joined Eren. "Well, are you going to reject the girls again?"

Eren smiled at Carly. What a crafty woman! "No, I think I'll go have some fun."

Jean's eyes widened. "Really?" he cried out.

"It's time to put away the past and march forward, don't you think?"

"Indeed!" Jean shouted, slapping his back so hard, Eren almost fell. "Officers! Let's bring the party to the girls."

The officers stumbled out of the beer hall, and those with vehicles gave rides to those without, with men piling up and hanging off trucks as they rode through the dark streets, singing loudly in the rain.

Eren realized Floch was still gone. He looked around, but Jean was nowhere in sight and Reiner had already filled his car. Just then, Carly's lithe hand landed on his shoulder.

"My car is this way, Herr Oberleutnant. That is, if you don't mind a woman driving."

Eren followed her to a sleek cream and black limousine. He ran his hand over the car in admiration and noticed the silver hood ornament.

"A Rolls-Royce?" he whispered in awe.

She took a seat behind the steering wheel. "My father bought it for me ten years ago ... back when he still talked to me." After they were both seated, she started up the car and pulled out onto the dark streets of Metz.

"What did your father do to afford a car like this?"

"Pharmacology. Speaking of which..." She pulled out a small bottle and shook it. "A little something to sober you up."

He took the bottle, opened the top, and shook out a pill. "What is it?"

"I use it for clients who are so drunk, they can't get it up." She smirked over at him. "If you want to have fun tonight, you should take one."

Eren's eyes narrowed. "Is it Pervitin?"

"I'm not that crude."

He frowned, but he knew he really was on the edge of being too drunk to be fully aware of the world around him. He should be sober when he apologized to Levi, not stumbling and slurring his words.

"Is he really there?" he whispered as he looked at the white pill. He either wanted to get drunk and pass out, or spend the night with Levi.

Carly smiled to herself as she drove along the streets of Metz. "He's under my protection now."

"Yours?" Eren cried out.

"Don't underestimate a woman."

"N-No," he mumbled, not meaning to be offensive. "I'm just worried for him."

"Adorable," she simpered to herself.

Eren firmed up his jaw, tossed the pill into his mouth, and struggled to swallow it down dry.

"Just a fair warning," she said. "That pill will make you quite horny. If he turns you down, you can always come to me."

Eren looked sickened at the offer. "No thanks."

They arrived at the brothel and pulled around to a private garage. Carly parked her car, and Eren looked around at the spacious garage. There was a Bugatti, a Renault Reinastella, and a Jaguar roadster.

"Do you like cars?" he asked, surprised by the collection of luxury automobiles, each one far beyond what he could ever afford.

"I like the freedom to travel," she said. "Before the war, I did a lot of driving: long trips through the countryside, drives to Paris to visit my friend Hange, traveling to the coast. That was before they slapped this on me," she said, patting the armband with a Star of David on it. "I'm not allowed to leave the city now, so I get what little enjoyment in driving that I can." She began to walk toward a door. "I haven't brought the Bugatti or Renault out since the Germans arrived. I fear if anyone sees them, they'll take away my cars, like they took my Mercedes-Benz, the bastards. You're the first German to see I have them." She turned and playfully winked while holding her finger up to her lips. "Hush-hush about it, dear."

Eren followed her through what he guessed was her private living quarters with sumptuous furnishings: soft carpeting, a mahogany table, matching elaborately carved mahogany chairs, a pink floral-print couch, a cherrywood hutch with crystal bowls and decanters stored inside, a radio, gramophone, towering bookshelves, art deco lamps, paintings of the French countryside, and one painting of a nude woman reclining on a bed and staring invitingly at the viewer. Eren could have sworn that the model was Carly herself, except the eyes were the wrong color and shape.

"Who's she?" Eren muttered.

Carly smiled bittersweetly. "My sister."

His eyebrows shot up. "You keep a nude painting of your sister?" he asked, finding that distasteful.

"It's the only picture I have of her. My family burned all of her photographs when she became a model in Paris, and the Nazis ... well, they aren't known to appreciate modern art, and she was just as Jewish as me. That painting was my inspiration to never be ashamed of being a woman, and a painful reminder that I am very lucky to still be alive."

They went on to another door, and when that one opened, Eren heard the noise of the brothel. Someone was playing an accordion, and dozens of conversations mixed with women giggling.

Carly chuckled to herself. "Ah, the party is getting started without us."

They continued on, passed Carly's business office, and finally entered the main foyer with its erotic art and swaths of red drapes. Eren saw that there was a small band playing polkas. Some of the officers sang along, urging their girls to sing too, although the women likely did not know any German at all. Women dressed only in underwear sat on the laps of officers, who fondled them, drunk and horny.

Eren stood in the middle of the room and looked around at the chaos that was almost to the point of being an orgy. Off to the side, he saw Jean with Annie. She looked flushed and feverish. Jean seemed to be scolding her for being up out of bed; however, there was genuine joy on her face at seeing him again.

Something caught Carly's attention. "Excuse me, Herr Oberleutnant. I'll be right back."

Eren watched as she strode over to a chair, where a soldier had a girl on his lap. Eren realized the man's trousers were undone, his cock out, and his hands were tight on the women's hips as he feverishly thrust up into her, not caring that dozens of others could see him.

Carly reached into her blouse and pulled out a condom. "Please use this."

The man slapped her hand away. "I'll fill her up if I want, whore."

Carly's eyes narrowed as he did not stop his thrusting, but she looked to the girl instead. She said in Russian, "Come to me later tonight. I'll clean you out and give you a pill." Then she looked at the soldier. "You'll be charged extra for leaving a mess inside her, and double that if you leave semen stains on my chair."

He sneered but never broke with his frantic pace.

Carly walked back to Eren, but his eyes were on the soldier.

"I can stop him," he offered.

"I don't want trouble for my girls."

"What if she gets pregnant?"

Carly snorted a quiet laugh and smiled cunningly. "She won't." She tugged on Eren's shoulder. "Follow me."

Eren turned and left the other men to their scantly-clan prostitutes. He followed Carly up some stairs to a second story of the brothel, where there were many private rooms. As they walked through the halls, Eren could hear that many of the rooms were already occupied, with grunts and squeaking bedsprings.

One door opened up and an SS guard stepped out, his clothes a little disheveled. He gave a nod to Eren before walking away. Carly paused and called into the room.

"Wash up. The next man arrives in thirty minutes."

"Co powiedziałaś, proszę pani?" What did you say, ma'am?

Carly looked like she had to translate in her head before answering again in another language.

"Russian?" asked Eren.

"No, that one's Polish."

Eren muttered, "Levi speaks Polish."

"Does he? I should have him give me some lessons. Apparently, my vocabulary is atrocious."

"Thirty minutes?" Eren whispered, and he began to sneer. "Is that the turnaround rate here?"

"They get thirty minutes with the girl, and she gets thirty minutes to clean up. One man an hour, twelve hours a day."

"It's sick," he grumbled.

"You've never approved of my profession, and I don't approve of yours."

"What's wrong with being a soldier?" he asked defensively.

"You kill men; I fuck men. One job leaves a corpse, the other leaves a happy man. Yet you think my job is the immoral one."

"Some of your girls didn't choose to be prostitutes."

"And some of your soldiers didn't choose to join the army. They were drafted against their will and ordered to fight or be hanged for treason. No difference in my mind, besides that I shelter my new girls and ease them into this job, while the army beats their new recruits into submission and brainwashes them into thinking that murdering others is patriotic."

She continued all the way to the far end of the hallway, where there was a special room with a decoratively carved door.

"My own personal chambers. Larger, soundproof, triple-checked to make sure there's no spying equipment, already stocked with anything you could want: wine, fruits, a fresh bar of soap at Levi's personal request, and also..." She smirked and slyly added, "...condoms and lubrication."

"Lubrication?" he asked, confused why he would need that.

She tittered at his naivety. "A little on the ass helps it to go in easier."

It still took Eren a few seconds, but as soon as he realized what she meant his face burst out red with embarrassment.

"I take it you two haven't tried that yet."

Eren felt awkward to talk about that with anyone; still, he shook his head and whispered, "Not yet. It's up to him."

"Well, perhaps tonight is your lucky night." She opened the door for him and gave Eren a wink. "Your sweetheart awaits."

# # #

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Kübelwagen and Krupp Protze – In the chapter "Sad Hero," I said that I imagine Eren's platoon has a Krupp Protze, a 6-wheeled armored truck. Then in "Recon Mission" I listed a few cars an officer might have. I personally don't like VW Kübelwagen—it was boxy, ugly, a shitty ride for passengers, but it was cheap to make, so thousands were produced. If I want to be historically realistic, it's the car that makes the most sense. It fit four, so Floch could drive with only Eren, Jarnach, and Connie as passengers ... unless Eren sits on Reiner's lap, haha!

Jus in bello ("right conduct in war") – This is part of Just War Theory ("just" as in righteous or ethical), a set of moral guidelines that has existed for around 4000 years in many different cultures. Today, these ancient rules of ethical warfare have been codified by the United Nations to judge if a country's actions constitute war crimes. I posted an essay I wrote on Just War Theory over on Tumblr, if you want to learn more. (It's around 3000 words, so I figured that's a bit too long for my footnotes.)

* https://wildrhov.tumblr.com/post/699995274950721536/just-war-theory

"The strong man is mightiest alone" – This is the name of a chapter in Adolf Hitler's Mein Kampf.

All mein Gedanken die ich hab – This song likely existed as far back as the medieval era, at least since the 1400s. Unlike some folk songs which were banned under the Nazis, this one was deemed politically harmless and was a favorite "true German" song. It was found in the songbooks of Hitler Youth and the Reich Labor Service. Because the lyrics are a man singing to his sweetheart as he's about to go off for a long time, it was popular with the SS and Wehrmacht.

Bunt sind schon die Wälder – This is one of the best-known German-language folk songs. The lyrics were written in 1782 by Johann Gaudenz von Salis-Seewis, under the title Herbstlied (Autumn Song). The music was composed in 1799 by Johann Friedrich Reichardt. Another version was written by Franz Schubert in 1816 (Herbstlied, D. 502).

Jean's joke – I came across this horrible "blond joke" on a German joke site, and I just knew Jean would be the sort to tell it. The joke is a play on words, Schule/schult (the noun "school" and the verb "to school/train/teach") and the fact that schwänzt (to skip school) sounds a lot like Schwänze (dicks). So "Die achtjährig schwänzt die Schule und die achtzehnjährigen schult die Schwänze!" The 8-year-old skips school and the 18-year-old schools/trains dicks! I love play-on-word jokes. The Jewish joke was also on a German joke site, although it was originally an exchange between a White man and Black man. In that one, it's the Black man who has a big dick. For Nazis, of course it would be the White man who is more virile.

"they aren't known to appreciate modern art" – The Nazis notoriously hated modern art, which they categorized as "degenerate" and often destroyed. This included Impressionism (my favorite modern art style), Expressionism, Surrealism, Cubism, and Dadaism.

As a painter, Hitler only approved of the art styles he liked. Once he came into power, he hosted the "Degenerate Art Exhibit" where the Nazis seized 5,000 works of modern art from museums across Germany: Vincent Van Gogh, Pablo Picasso, Salvador Dalí, and many others. One million people came to see the exhibit, many realizing this may be their last time to see the works of art.

That was true. After the exhibit, 4,000 of the paintings were burned in a bonfire, while a few were sold to private collections. German artist Max Beckmann fled Germany the day after Hitler's radio speech about degenerate art in 1937; meanwhile, Expressionist artist Ernst Ludwig Kirchner killed himself after he heard that over 600 of his paintings had been destroyed by the Nazis.

* https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Degenerate_Art_exhibition

Carly's Cars

The idea that Carly is a luxury car enthusiast came from me debating which car she should drive. I've mentioned before, I'm a huge classic car enthusiast, to the point where me and my husband's first date was to a car show. So I put way too much thought into what she would drive.

I really wanted to give her an iconic 1930s luxury car like Bugatti, Dusenberg, or the French-made Renault, but she needed to have a lot of passenger room, not just good looks. I realized she needed a limo, but if she has that, then she would definitely have a "daily driver" too. That led me to realize, Carly is from a wealthy family, so ... why not splurge and give her MANY beautiful cars!

Germany invaded France in 1940, and a Jewish woman like her would not be allowed to buy a car, so all the cars had to be from the 1930s.

I decided she would have a 1932 Bugatti Type 55 Roadster, a 1930 Renault Reinastella, and a 1937 Jaguar SS 100 3.5-litre Roadster, some of the most beautiful cars of the 1930s.

The Bugatti is for racing in the countryside, the Renault is for when she wants to show up in style but not deal with the limo, and the Jaguar is her "daily driver" since it's small and easier to maneuver around the narrow city streets. It's only a two-seater, but that's plenty for her.

The car she chauffeurs her girls in is a Rolls-Royce 20/25 Limousine. Built between 1929-1936, these were popular with the wealthy, which saved Rolls-Royce during the Great Depression. The iconic hood ornament (or "bonnet ornament" in British English) is a silver-plated design of a woman in a billowing gown leaning forward into the wind, called The Spirit of Ecstasy. (A perfect name for a sex-positive woman like Carly!) Although it came as either a coupe, sedan, or limousine, the most popular type was the limousine. Only 3827 were built, so Carly really does have an exceptional and beautiful car.

Fun note – In Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, the American-Nazi villain offers a Sultan a chest of gold in exchange for camels, horses, and tanks to go search for the Holy Grail; however, the Sultan is more interested in his Rolls-Royce. The car has a metal plaque of the Nazi eagle and swastika on the hood.