49

Two Sides One Kind

Characters. Pvt. Martin Hammond: A soldier of the British army, 18-25. Has been fighting in the war for two years. Has his morals straight and only wishes the war over. Youthful with the idea that he joined the army to seek adventure and to serve his country. He has a family waiting his return. A younger brother who looks up to him and a mother who he aids as she ages. Pvt. Otto Jürgen: An infantryman of the German army, also 18-25. A skittish young man who spends most of the time on the battlefield simply trying to survive rather than fighting. He has a girlfriend waiting for him back home and intends to marry her as soon as has finished his time serving.

(Setting: A German trench recently abandoned by both British and German forces. The sound of distant gunfire can be heard occasionally over the rain. Martin has managed to get lost during a skirmish and finds himself looting the small trench headquarters. Otto lays on the ground having played dead as he hears Martin approach. Otto has been shot in the arm and struggles to stay still as he lays in cold dank mud. Martin approaches Otto and gives him a gentle kick to see if he’s alive, he then sits on a wood stool to catch a breather until Otto coughs frightening him so much he falls backwards. Otto kneels up with his good arm raised in surrender. Martin struggles to get his rifle into his hands but stops when he sees Otto not making an attempt to attack him.) Otto: Nein! Nein! Don’t shoot! (Martin looks at Otto. He gets up and aims his rifle at Otto breathing heavy. After a few moments of the two looking silently at one another, Martin lowers his gun and sits back on the stool.) Martin: Well I’m not going to kill a man who can’t bloody well defend himself! Otto: I’ll go. I won’t try to fight I promise. (He starts moving to get out of the trench.) Martin: I wouldn’t do that. You hear that? Otto: Vat? Martin: Nothing. We hear nothing. That means there are machine gunners keeping a steady watch on the field. You should wait for the bombs to start dropping before you leave. The gunners take cover when the bombs come ‘round. (Otto has stopped and sat back down in the trench.) Otto: Danke. Martin: You’re welcome friend. What’s your name? Otto: Otto… Martin: Otto, pleased. (He nods.) I am pvt. Martin Hammond of the volunteer British army. It’s a silly thing really. All this fighting. I joined the army hoping to find adventure and to serve the

great nation of Britannia. (Sighs.) It’s not what I expected. All my friends I’ve made in the army have perished or are unrecognizable. (Thinking.) Two years of my life spent running more than shooting. (To Otto.) Three men I’ve killed. That’s over fifty years of life, depending on their ages. (Solemn, to his rifle.) Gone, because of me. Otto: I have not killed anyone. I haven’t even fired my rifle in combat. Martin: (About Otto’s wound.) But it appears you have been shot at. Come, sit down. (Martin pats the chair. Otto hesitates but rises and moves to the chair sitting. Martin slings his rifle over his shoulder and kneels. He fumbles through his gear to find medical bandages. He holds out the bandages to Otto.) Martin: Hold this if you would. (Martin pulls small scissors and a bottle of booze from their holsters. He dabs some alcohol on his hands and rubs them together. He grabs Otto’s arm and booze with his free hand.) This will hurt. (He pours some alcohol on Otto’s arm. Otto cringes in pain and breaths heavily.) Done! Last step. (Otto gives him the bandages. Martin wraps his arm while talking.) You speak English quite well. Where did you learn? Otto: I learned because I liked the way it sounds in music. It’s beautiful. I always wanted to know what they say. Since I was a boy yeah? I read on my own. Martin: Well my friend you’ve done a marvelous job. (He finishes wrapping Otto’s arm. He takes the remaining bandages and puts them away.) Otto: Danke. Martin: Of course. (He takes a drink of the booze and offers it to Otto.) Otto: Uhh… Martin: It won’t kill you. (Otto takes the drink and swigs. He is not used to “British” alcohol.) That my friend, is imported from Britain herself. I stole that from an officer. Well, I didn’t really steal it. He was dead. Otto: I prefer German brew, it goes down easier. Martin: Oh really? You’ll have to treat me to one, one day. Perhaps when all this nonsense is finished yes? (They laugh, then become solemn.) Otto: Perhaps you will even meet Katjaa. She’s Russian. Very smart. I’m going to marry her. I promise her. You want to see? Martin: Why not? Got nothing better to do. (Otto pulls a photo from his chest pocket. He shows Martin.) Ah, smart and beautiful. How did you make her acquaintance? Otto: Hmm? Martin: How did you meet? Otto: Oh. She like to travel. She want to go to Britain one day. We heard it’s beautiful.

Martin: Hmm, well I’ve lost the sense of beauty of it. The whole familiarity of it takes away the beauty you know? But, it’s home. And that’s enough for me. Otto: I know what you mean. I’m sure Germany is beautiful to you, but is normal for me. Martin: Quite. Otto: You have family? Martin: Every man has a family Otto. Yes even British soldiers. (They share a gentle laugh.) I have a mother and little brother waiting. I was born a bastard. My mother never told me where he went or who he was even. I think it was perhaps I never asked. I think I will if I get home. Otto: You and I are alike. My father died when I was a boy. He was struck by lightning. Boop! Like that. Martin: Well. We’re both men Otto you and I. Brothers from different points of view. Otto: Yes. (Silence. Gentle sprinkling is heard.) Martin: At least the rain is gentle to us. (Looking up.) My god. I never realized how beautiful this place is. All I had to do was look up. (The two sit looking into the sky. They listen to the rain. Otto closes his eyes breathing deeply. They stay like this for a moment.) Martin/Otto: Reminds me of home./It’s like home. (They look to one another enjoying the fact they were thinking the same thing.) Martin: If there’s one thing we find in common. It’s the sky. Every person sees the same sky and yet we say we’re different. Otto: We are different. Martin: Yes. You’re not wrong there. I’m just babbling on sentimentally. Otto: What was it like to kill a man? Martin: Hmm. Hard to explain. You see it, but your mind isn’t concerned of it. You feel the shot and you see them fall. I liked it in a way. It made me feel powerful. As if I were winning the war single handedly. But… Then the wonder sets in. Thinking that they had a family, friends. They were fighting, hiding, aging and dying just like one’s self. And you realize the only reason you pulled that trigger… is because they would have if you hadn’t. Otto: Hmm. Martin: What? Otto: There’s a lot to it. Killing someone. It’s easy, but not. Martin: Precisely.

Otto: I wonder what woman would think of us if they could see us now. Our mothers? Martin: Well. I doubt they’d be pleased. Perhaps our fathers would be more understanding. War is a gentleman’s sport after all. Otto: What scares me is the thought of women one day fighting as we do. They are so important and beautiful. They would not fit in war. Martin: Well, it’s not for us to say what comes about in the future. We’ll never know. All we can do is hope that this is the war to end all wars. Otto: It’s strange how war ends as quickly as it begins. Almost overnight. Maybe if we wait one more night in this trench. We can walk home together. That would be good yeah? Martin: And then what? Go back to our normal lives? How does one do that? After spending so long doing what our societies have trained us so long not to do. Then change and go back to normal? Otto: I guess we will have to see once the fighting is done yeah? (Distant bombs can be heard detonating. In small bursts at first then becoming more rapid and then maintaining a constant rate being heard very clearly.) Martin. Well. If we’re going to get out of here alive, now would be the time. (The two soldiers stand. They shake hands.) So long Otto. Best of luck. Otto: You too Martin. (The two leave in opposite directions. Lights out.)