“Write often and remember there are always people at home who love you.”

            “Be strong, be a good worker, and serve your nation well.”

            “Don’t mess this up, Kurt.  This is your one chance to give back to our wonderful country.  Don’t ruin the Hummel name.”

            Kurt Hummel stood in the foyer of his large, mansion-like house listening to the drone of his parents’ final farewells.  He knew they meant well and were sad to see their only son going off to war, but were the over-dramatics really called for?  He adjusted his feathery bronze hair and donned the green cap that had emblazoned on it the official Nazi symbol.

            “Mother, Father, I’m going to be just fine.  No ruining names or anything, I promise,” he reassured them, grabbing his small duffel bag that previously was lying at his feet and planted a kiss on his mother’s tear-stained cheek.

            “If I had my way, you would never have gotten mixed up with this war,” Elizabeth Hummel sourly said, embracing her son before he left to catch his train.  Kurt’s father, Burt, sighed, clearly irritated, and rolled his wheelchair closer to his family.

            “Stop this nonsense, Elizabeth.  What he goes to do is an honourable duty that I would’ve done myself had I not been hurt.” Burt Hummel had been a high-ranking soldier in the Nazi regime, favoured by everyone for his kind yet stern disposition.  He had been fighting in the war that was taking place, but in a recent attack, had gotten shot in the leg and was now taking time off to recuperate.  In his place, he was sending his twenty-year-old son, Louis.

            Kurt didn’t know much about the war, or had care for politics at all, and only knew that he had to replace his father and provide a service to his country.  He was oblivious to the horrors and atrocities that were happening within the very borders of his own country of Germany.  This ignorance was the exact reason why the young man stood packed and ready to go join the hoards of people to serve their leader, Adolph Hitler.

            “He’s right, Mother,” Kurt sadly smiled at the woman, whose similarly cocoa-coloured hair was dampened by her salty tears, “I’ll be fine and home before you know it.  Maybe even sooner if Father heals as fast as the doctors expect.”

            “I know, I know… It’s just… ,” Elizabeth tried to compose herself but ended up breaking down even further, crying out loudly, “For God’s sakes, Burt, he’s just a boy!  And you’re sending him straight into the middle of the war?  You know what they’re doing to those people.  It isn’t right!  He shouldn’t be taking part in this.”

            “Elizabeth!  Enough is enough.  I need a replacement and our son is more than old enough to do his duty to our country,” Burt reprimanded his wife who was sobbing uncontrollably.  She threw at disgusted look at him, muttered an ‘I love you’ to Kurt, and fled the room.  Kurt widened his doe-eyes in shock.  Why was his mother acting like that?  It made him even more nervous to be leaving his family and heading out to take part in a war he knew next to nothing about.  Burt caught on to his son’s increased fear and placed a hand on his back.

            “Don’t worry about your mother,” he told Kurt in a placating tone, “She’s just worried for your safety, as we all are, but I have no doubt that you’ll do us Hummels proud.  Now hurry, the train won’t wait for you.”

            The blue-eyed boy bit his lip and nodded, readjusted the strap of the bag on his shoulder, and walked out of the front door to the awaiting taxi that would drive him to the train station.  As he looked back on the lavish home he had known for so long, he had no idea what was going to happen in the months to come.  He didn’t know about the atrocities he would witness, much less the unspeakable acts he would be forced to perform.  His brain was clueless of what was really happening in the war.  Maybe, though, that was a good thing that Kurt had no idea of what lay in his future.  Maybe it was good to be blind as he boarded that fateful train, like a lamb being led to slaughter.