Bazaine's Defeat

The bees where humming and buzzing all around the garden as they gathered up the sweet serum and distributed the pollen. They've been doing it for millennia and were truly experts at their craft. Highly efficient, dedicated, and focused. Much like grandfather had been his entire life and something that had been drilled into him from an early age, as it had been for all the boys at the time. Diligence was everyone's middle name. He had truly been a busy bee most of his life. Now he was quite the opposite as he lounged on a chair in the garden sipping a lemonade that was sweating profusely on the table as he fanned himself. He had worked hard, fought hard, and now rested on his laurels as was his due.

"My boy, where have you gone?" He cried out for his

grandson, Walther, who was admiring the bees and butterflies as they fluttered

around the garden. It was cool in the garden, not as cool as inside within the

thick walls of the house, but a refreshing kind of warmth that was supplied by

the ample shade of the trees, ferns, and tall bushes.

"I'm here Opa," he replied, 'Opa' being the German

colloquial term for 'Grandfather'. "What is it? I was just observing this

delightful Pyrameis atalanta, it has quite an interesting coloration.

The spots on the tips of it’s wings are shaped quite peculiarly.”

“Pyramids? It’s a butterfly, how can it look like a pyramid?” Opa scoffed at the idea and grasped for his lemonade. Walther came to his aid and handed it to him. His Opa, named Maximilian, thanked him.

“You are kind good boy, but too soft. Are you sure you wish to continue studying this biology nonsense? Why, at your age I was already in the military you know.”

Walther smiled “Who wasn’t back then, Opa? You all had to serve, you were mobilized, and you liked it.”

Opa Max took a nice deep gulp of the lemonade and gave out an elderly smacking lips of approval. “Mjam, mjam, so good. Yes,” he held out his hand with the lemonade as it slightly shook in his hands “we did so because were told to do so, and we did as we were told. Not like you youths these days, doing whatever you damn well please. I’d have none of it. I told your father as much, but what can I do? I am just an old man.”

Walther put the glass down and sat next to his grandfather “Tell me, Opa, did you ever question what you were told? Did you simply do everything as instructed?”

Opa Max leered at him with a side-eye and smiled “Oh my boy… My boy. Are you comfortable? Let me tell you what your grandfather was up to in the days. I learned to listen.” Maximilian sat up and his arms shook as he attempted to do so, Walther stood to help him, but Max waved him away.

“Not yet, I am not that old yet. Leave me. So… Yes, it was many a year ago. What year have we now? Ah yes, 1910 indeed. It was forty years ago when you grandfather was just minding his own business on the vinery. I was doing odd jobs as I did not want to become a winemaker like your father. I found it to be quite boring.” Walther nodded in agreement and Max smiled. “Ah, I see we are on the same page. I had been doing it most of my youth but once I finished school, I was looking for other things to do. All the odd jobs nearby did not appeal to me, though. I was employed by a brewer for a few weeks, but I did not listen correctly and ruined a batch. Gave too much yeast you see, made it unusable. My father, your Uropa (great-grandfather) managed to negotiate that I could pay off the debt of the batch by working in their inn they had nearby.”

Max took a moment and looked up and laughed aloud “Oh! Oh, it was a great time that! I banged the brewer’s daughter and he chased me away! Afterward he wanted nothing to do with me or the family.” They both laughed.

“Ah, she was fine. Very sweet woman. Anyway, I did a few other jobs here and there, fixing some fences. Helping on the Bauer’s farm nearby. It was all no good, I did not enjoy it and so I reluctantly was about to go back to my father and ask for a job as a winemaker. Fate came otherwise though!”

Walther nodded “The French…” Max coughed and raised a finger. “Indeed! The French! Those sly sons of- “– “Opa…” “Yes, yes… They were something else. Invading us! When I heard of the mobilization, I thought to myself ‘Oh glory be! Finally, something interesting!’ and I looked forward to the action. It was to be a great deal of fun. Me and a friend of mine, Alexander, we signed up right away. We were good friends since we were little boys, playing war in the fields and the streets.”

“Alexander? You’ve never spoken of him. Do you meet him still?” Walther asked and Max shook his head. “Let me finish boy.”

Walther nodded and Opa Max continued: “He was a great friend and like a brother to me at the time. We went through thick and thin. He was bullied for being Jewish you see, and I would always defend him. We got into a good few scrap and he was a bit smaller than me as we grew up. We were like brothers. Don’t get me wrong, I do thoroughly love my brother Albrecht as well, but he was so much older than me. You know how he loved you?”

Walther nodded “A great very much.”

Max nodded “Yes, a lot, a lot… Alex and me, we signed up at the recruiting station. It was such a hot day and we had a bag each of some bread and books to go with us. Mother was worried endlessly, but your Uropa he was so proud, so proud! He patted me on the back and said to me ‘I am proud of you son, make something of yourself’ and it gave me energy you would not believe. Have I told you I am proud of you, Walther?”

Walther smiled and shook his head “You’ve not today, Opa.”

Max smiled “Ah but I have yesterday? Well, I will tell you again: I am proud of you! Even if you are a bit of a rebel.” Max gave him a small punch on the arm and Walther laughed coyly.

“Anyway, we signed up and we were at the barracks by noon. We took a train that was there specifically for all the recruits. By nightfall we had a uniform and were being yelled at. Oh, I had never been yelled at so much as I had in the army. They told me what to do, where to be, and when to be there. I listened to every word. Your Uropa was a soft touch you know, a very good father, but I could get away with too many things. I stole sweets sometimes too.”

“Opa! No! Really? You?” Walther was slightly shocked and laughed.

Max laughed “Yep! Sneaky bugger. I didn’t listen to my father, or my stepmother. I did what I wanted, but there in the barracks I stood to attention, I marched along the plaza, I went up and down, left, and right. A week later we were back in a train and heading to France. The real soldiers, the boys who were in the army many more years than we were, were already on the front fighting. It was a quick affair, I tell you. We made mincemeat of those French bastards. Alex, however, he was still a little rebel at heart like me. I suppose I inspired him from when we were youths. He would backtalk to the officers sometimes and get punishments. He was once whipped for not getting out of bed fast enough! Only five times but a solid five they were!”

Max stopped for a moment and took the lemonade. It was shaking more this time in his hand and Walther supported his grandfather lifting it to his mouth.

“Thank you… This… This part is hard to tell… Be patient with me boy.” Walther nodded and put the lemonade back down. Max smacked his lips and looked off into the distance, the light that was in his eyes prior seemed to dim. He continued:

“He was a great man, Alex. Smart, like his father. He wanted to go off and study in London he always told me. He had family there, and he wanted to study there eventually and explore the world. I always said I would join him. This was our first adventure, the war. We were out there just the two of us and we thought we could take on the world. We heard the artillery from far away on the train, it sounded like thunder. We had setup a siege on the city and once we were out of the train, we setup camp around the city of Metz. By god, it was a huge camp. Tens of thousands of us were there, drinking and having a good time. That was the beginning. Later, food was getting a bit scarce and many were getting sick. Again, tens of thousands getting sick. Me and Alex, we were spry and youthful, we were fine. We avoided the tents where they had the sick and just kept to ourselves, me, and him. Then one day the French attempted to break the siege and we were on the frontline.”

Max paused and there was a moment of silence. Only the humming of bees could be heard and the cacophony of birds. A small rustle of the wind reanimated Max and he lifted his head slightly. Their eyes met and Walther could see they were red, so his grandfather quickly looked away. It was not like him to show weakness. He cleared his throat and continued.

“Ahem… Hm… Right we… We were on the line in the trenches and our commanding officer, Ritter. I remember him, he was a good fellow but always drunk. He was shouting at us ‘Stay down! Ready yourselves! Stay down!' and we stayed down and prepared our shot and bayonets. Alex was all excited he was curious. He asked if I wanted to look over the trench to see the enemy, see them before we fight for glory. I told him ‘No, Alex. Stay down! Major Ritter told us to stay down!’ but he laughed at me.

‘Don’t be a baby!’ he said and gave me a coy smile. I shook my head and warned him.

‘Follow the orders this time, Alex. You can hear them shouting in French!’ and Alex simply replied, ‘I will then hear them die in French!’ and he stood up from the trench…”

Max stopped and wiped his eyes, looking away from Walther and toward a tree.

“He… He was shot right in the head. The bullet went right through his eye. He flopped down like a bag of potatoes. I still see his face before me. Same old Alex, but a gaping hole where his eye was… I was… Sad, and mad. We ended up repelling their attempt to break the siege… We took Metz and it was a complete military success. But to me it was my greatest failure… He did not listen to Ritter, but more so he did not listen to me. You see, Walther…”

He looked at Walther and their eyes met. His grandfather’s eyes red and welled up with tears, one escaped and fell down his cheek and Walther could not help but feel his eyes well up as well.

“When I am tougher on you, I remember Alex. I remember what happened when he did not listen. I know, I know, you are not at war, but know that I know more than you now, due to age, but one day you will know more than I ever did. But when I speak to you so, that I ask you to listen, know where it comes from… Just know that I… I…”

Walther took his grandfather’s hand and smiled as he too cried and answered him before his Opa could continue “I know… And I… for you… I… I love you too.”

His grandfather sunk his head and grasped his grandson’s hand tighter and they sat in silence, holding their hands for a moment. A butterfly twisted itself around the two before wandering off and upward. A shout came from the street and Max released the hand quickly and darted it back to his side. Walther slowly sat upright. They wiped the tears from their faces and his grandfather gave a short laugh.

“Hah… Ah… Could you… Could you bring your Opa another lemonade?”

Walther gave a small sniff and smiled “Of course, Opa.” He took the glass and headed inside from the garden. Max sat back in the chair and looked up to the sky, sighed, and closed his eyes.