WW2 Christmas story

[tinytim12]

So I was digging through my hard drive and found this. I would appreciate any critique, especially on structure.

Cap jammed yet another cigarette into his mouth, lighting it in less than a second. Behind him, Mendy was sitting on the altar, chugging down a bottle of beer. Wiping his hairy stubble, he started on another, knocking over his rifle in the process. Cap watched him with a kind of disgust, and turned to check on his other two companions.

Rude was playing with his commando knife, tossing it from one hand to another, staring at it intently. Al was looking at the floor, with a slack-jawed expression, absentmindedly rubbing his blonde hair. He had assumed that expression ever since a Jerry grenade had gone off him, almost tearing his face apart. Al hadn't spoken since.

But, after all, he was a rookie. The others weren't, but to him, it was all the same. They were all human beings, men he had taken upon himself to keep alive. Right now, they were taking refuge in an abandoned church, and as soon as they had rested enough they would move.

'Fuck,' Mendy groaned, throwing away his third bottle. It landed with a crash, and Al jumped. 'Fuck this war, man. Just fuck it.'

'It would by my pleasure, but unfortunately we don't have that luxury,' Cap snapped.

'Join the army, they said,' laughed Mendy. 'Uncle Sam wants you to get your goddamn asses killed!' He subsided into silence for a while, and then added, 'I envy those fucking kids.'

'Why?'

'It's Christmas now. They're all be opening their presents now and we'll be sitting here freezing in this damn church.'

Christmas. Cap had forgotten about that. He'd even forgotten what month it was. Al raised his head. 'Christmas?' he repeated. 'Doesn't that mean...a truce?'

'I do beg your pardon, cissy boy,' drawled Mendy. 'Are you fucking nuts?'

'I've heard stories,' Al looked down, red flushing to his cheeks. 'That on Christmas day last year, all the Germans, and the Americans, they just - lay down their rifles, and went to play soccer. Embraced each other as friends.'

Cap had heard stories - but there only Christmas he had spent in this war, he hadn't had a chance to see if it was true. Before he could reply Rude got in first.

'Everything's the same,' Rude murmured, never taking his eyes off the knife. 'There will be no truce. Never a truce.' His voice sounded weary, a true veteran's voice. He was the only one with his helmet still on, like he couldn't be bothered to take it off.

'Fuck you,' Mendy downed half of his fourth bottle before continuing. 'Fuck everyo - '

'Shh!' Cap bolted up to the altar and clapped his hand over the American soldiers' mouth.

There was an eerie silence. Al nervously shifted his rifle Rude stopped playing with the knife and now clutched it tightly, the blade gleaming wickedly in the moonlight.

'What?' Al whispered, his whole body shuddering.

'I thought I heard something.'

More silence.

Mendy prised his mouth free. 'Fuck you, Captain.' He said loudly. Cap and Al flinched, but the church doors didn't burst open. No German soldiers came barging in.

'Germans? Here?' Mendy snorted. 'What reason would they have? This is a deserted town. No resources, no strategic positions, zilch.'

'They could be stragglers like us. Now shut it!'

But the Al had relaxed, and Rude had gone back to fiddling with his knife. Cap sighed, and lit another cigarette.

'You gonna have two at the same time?' said Mendy incredulously.

'Helps to distract me,' murmured Cap, taking in deep, unhealthy breaths.

Quiet settled over the church. Al suddenly took out a clean, red ball from his pocket and began staring at it.

'Hey wimp,' Mendy growled. Cap could smell the whisky on his breath, and turned away in disgust. Mendy jumped down from the altar, nearly overturning it, and walked over to Al. 'What's that ball?'

Al shrank back. 'It's my mam's. She gave it to me for Christmas.'

'How sad,' Mendy stood there swaying on the spot for a moment, and then grabbed the ball.

'Hey!'

Mendy ignored him, tossing the ball up and down. 'This seems like a high quality ball. I wonder how fast it'll go - '

'Oi!' Cap shouted, but it was too late. Mendy raised the ball above his head, and hurled it with all his strength. It zoomed out of the window.

Al made a strangling noise of despair, and then rushed to the window. 'My...' he croaked.

'Oops,' Mendy giggled drunkenly. 'Threw it too far. Never mind, I'll get it back.' He stumbled towards the church doors.

'Mendy!' Cap hissed. 'Are you crazy? Get back in here.'

If Cap had been heard, it didn't show. Mendy flung open the doors. Cap started after him, but his feet slipped on one of the beer bottles lying on the floor, and he tumbled to the ground, cursing. By the time he got up, Mendy had gone.

'Damn it!' Cap swore. He turned to the remaining two men. 'We have to go after him. There still might be German's out there.'

Neither of the two looked especially willing to go. Al looked scared, while Rude just looked plain tired. Cap sighed. 'Rude, you're with me.'

Rude gave him the finger.

'Rude!'

The veteran slowly got up, still holding his knife in his hand.

'I'm sorry,' Al said. But he made no move to get up.

Every nerve in Cap's body screamed Coward. But he wasn't exactly willing to shout at Al, the young rookie. No time for that. He motioned to Rude, and they left the church, closing the door behind them.

The two slowly proceeded down the ruined buildings, looking for any trace of where Mendy had gone. But he had disappeared. All this snow falling on Caps' head made it hard for him to think. He discarded a cigarette and added another one.

'Over there,' Cap pointed to a clump of fences. 'That's about where the ball landed. He'll be there...I hope.'

They jogged over there in silence, aware of the many windows and alleys where German's could be lurking. Rude didn't usually talk much, but suddenly, he said, 'Do you believe that, Cap?'

'What?'

'That Christmas makes everyone all jolly?' Rude replied, his voice dripping with weariness.

'Maybe,' Cap crouched at the entrance of the street, determined there were no snipers, and then continued. 'Who knows, maybe the old Christmas spirit brings out the best in everyone.'

Rude sighed. 'We're all fucked,' he simply said. 'We're all going to die in this war.'

By now, Cap was used to listening to gloomy proclamations of doom from his comrade. 'Don't worry, Rude. If Germans show up, I won't be taking any chances.'

But Rude hadn't finished. He was being unusually talkative today.

At that moment, they arrived at the town cemetery. Mendy was there, holding up a bright red ball in triumph. Just as Cap was about to call out to him, three Germans melted out of the trees.

Cap jerked back in shock, and instantly darted behind a statue of Our Mother Mary. After a while, he peered round his cover.

The three Germans had noticed Mendy. One of them, a young one with a broken smile on his face, raised his rifle, but one of the others stopped him. This one was an officer, as displayed by the cap on his forehead. He had a long, jagged scar across his face. The third German had a big nose. Neither of them looked remotely friendly.

Scarface stepped forward. 'Guten Abend!' he called out.

Mendy looked around, saw the three Germans, and then raised his hands. 'Son of a shitsack,' he swore.

'Was machst du? Totet ihn!' Smiley shouted.

'Halt die klappe!' Scarface shouted back.

'Oi!' Mendy shouted. 'Christmas, yeah? Don't kill me, yah?'

No one paid any attention to him. The two Germans, Smiley and Scarface, seemed to be arguing with each other.

'Horen sie, sir, ich weib, du bist uber weihnachten aufgeregt, aber das ist lacherlich!' Smiley argued in rapid, incoherent German.

Big Nose raised his rifle uncertainly. Mendy swore. 'I ain't gonna die on Christmas day,' he growled.

Scarface slapped Bignose's rifle away. 'Hor mir zu!' he spat, and then Mendy made his move. He grabbed his pistol from his belt and aimed it at Scarface.

The German officer didn't even blink. Faster than Cap could light a cigarette, Scarface drew a revolver and shot Mendy twice in the face.

[tinytim12]

'Good God,' Cap muttered under his breath, as he watched Mendy fall.

'American schwein!' laughed Smiley hysterically, and began shooting at Mendy's dead body. Scarface angrily shouted at him in random German, and Smiley's grin vanished, replaced by an equally angry look. After a few heated conversations in German, the three began moving forward.

Cap retreated behind the statue. They were passing right through the cemetery, right where he and Rude was, and therefore - Rude! Where was he?

Cap looked around wildly. Rude was crouching beside a gravestone. His back was turned to Cap, and he seemed to be doing something with his knife. Cap's heart jumped. The Germans were walking directly towards him.

'Rude!' Cap whispered as loudly as he dared. 'Get over here!'

Rude stared at his captain impassively, and then waddled over to his position in a low crouch.

'Was war das?' Cap heard Big Nose shout.

Immediately a gunshot kicked up snow by Rude's feet. The American soldier dived to the ground just as another shot rang out.

'Shit!' Cap swore, lighting a fourth cigarette and sticking it in between his teeth. He raised the M1 rifle and peered round the statue.

He saw Smiley aiming at Rude, who was still scrambling to his feet, and Cap fired his M1 Garand. Smiley ducked behind a gravestone just as chips of stone flew upwards.

Rude had now managed to reach cover, behind a white pillar. He took out his knife, and looked at it morosely.

'Rude!' Cap shouted, popping off shots at Smiley to no avail. 'Help me out!'

Rude looked blankly at him, and then back to the knife.

'Fuck!' Cap shouted, as he continued to fire at Smiley. Big Nose popped out from behind a cross and joined his comrade.

As Cap reloaded, Rude sat in his position, holding the knife with his right hand. He brought it down to his wrist, pressing it down on the skin. A small drop of blood oozed out.

He held the knife there for a while, and then slowly put it back into his sheath. He stood up.

'Rude!' Cap cried in disbelief. 'Get down!'

Rude slowly moved forwards, like a man on death row. Bullets slammed into the tombs around him, but Rude continued.

'Get back here!' Cap screamed, trying to distract the Germans, but they were too fixated on the easy target. 'Rude!'

A bullet slammed into Rude's left shoulder. Blood and bone splurted out. Rude didn't even slow. Two more bullets hit him in the chest, but he kept going. Cap spat out two cigarettes and inserted one more. With a shaking hand, he lit it, and leaned back on the statue, trying to hold back tears.

Just as Rude sustained a wound to his thigh, he bent down, picked up the shiny red ball by Mendy's body, turned round and threw it. Flying through the air it shot through the church window perfectly.

Three more bloody holes appeared in his back. Rude turned slowly round, his expression the one of a man who was looking forward to a good rest, and then pointed his middle finger skywards.

There was one last crack, and then Rude fell down, landing softly on the snow.

Cap saw him fall, and sighed. He lit another cigarette and leaned out. Bignose and Smiley had gone. All that remained were the bodies of his comrades, turning the pure snow a dark red.

Cap crouched and moved forward, his rifle at the ready. Adrenaline was pumping in his veins, and he was itching to see a German pop out from a gravestone so that he could shoot that bastard. He had to kill them. He had to kill them all.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw something blue. Throwing himself to the ground, he pulled the trigger.

Nothing. A dull click. He was out of ammo. One of the Germans - Smiley - had ventured out of cover. Now that he saw Cap was helpless, he walked over to him.

Smiley laughed, a high pitched, unpleasant sound. 'American schwein!' the German giggled, and then his hand went to his rifle.

Cap grabbed the snow lying beside him, and hurled it. It was a direct hit. Smiley cried out, trying to rub the icy slush away from his eyes. Cap grabbed for his sidearm just as Smiley started to recover.

'Merry Christmas, motherfucker!' Cap shouted, pulling the trigger. Smiley dropped, a bloody hole in his chest. Cap fired again and again at the body, puncturing holes and staining snow. Only when the trigger clicked uselessly did he bitterly lower the pistol.

He reloaded the pistol, panting. This was screwed up. He hated himself, and he hated the world. Three men had died on Christmas day, all killed by each other. Fuck up world this was. He cursed, and then cursed some more, and then Bignose came barreling out from the mass of gravestones.

Instantly both men leveled their weapons at each other.

'Fuck you!' Cap shouted. The only thing stopping him from squeezing the trigger was that the fact that Bignose would instantly return fire.

Bignose must have realized the same thing. 'Senken sie ihre waffe!' he yelled, his face contorted in hatred.

'Fuck you and your German ass. Drop your weapon!'

'Sie haben ihn getotet!'

'I'm gonna kill you, you know that?!' Cap's voice was coming out in ragged gasps, and he gripped the pistol as if it was his lifeline. 'I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!'

'LASSEN SIE DIE WAFFE!' Bignose's finger tightened, and at that moment, Cap knew the German was going to pull the trigger, Cap was going to pull his, and then both would end up dying in the snow, on the ever so wonderful Christmas day...

There was a cocking sound, and a rifle was pointed at Bignose's face.

'I suggest you drop your weapon,' Al said calmly. 'Before anyone gets hurt.'

'Al!' Cap shouted in surprise.

'No one else is going to die,' whispered the rookie, his whole body trembling. 'Cap, lower your pistol.'

'Are you cra - '

Al suddenly felt the cold steel of a German Luger pointed at his head.

'Bleiben noch,' said Scarface, the officer's badge on his uniform gleaming.

The floor of them stood in a standoff in this cold, snowy graveyard, two Americans and two Germans, at an impasse.

'Listen - listen,' Al spoke rapidly. 'You can't do this. We can all walk away from here.'

'He won't listen to you, Al,' Cap shouted. Indeed, Scarface's expression remained stony faced.

'Please,' Al pleaded, looking into the cold eyes. 'I promise, if you guys lower your guns we'll lower ours. Please, just trust us.'

Scarface's facial muscles did not move an inch. He inclined his head, and shouted an order to Big Nose. 'Keine notwendigkeit fur die bekampfung.'

Nobody moved. Cap waited, sweat trickling down his face. He had no idea what had just been said, but he knew it would take just one shot for this to end in a bloodbath.

'Nein,' Bignose replied, a snarl on his face.

Scarface stared his comrade directly in the eye. 'Es ist Weihnachten.'

Dead silence. Then, as one, Scarface and Bignose lowered their weapons.

'Merry Christmas,' Scarface snarled in broken English. He holstered his pistol, spat on the ground, and walked out of the cemetery, Bignose following uncertainly behind. They didn't look back.

Cap covered them with his pistol until they were out of sight, and then he lowered it. 'Damn, Al,' he swore. 'That was a stupid thing to do.'

Al held up a red ball. 'Well, Cap, I guess I just found my Christmas spirit.'

Cap noticed he was smoking dead cigarettes, and spat them out. He didn't insert another one. 'Come on, let's bury them.'

The two of them set about doing their grisly work. Ordinarily Cap wouldn't have bothered burying the German as well, but hey, it was Christmas. Whatever that meant.

[tinytim12]

Where's ZeeAk when you need him?

[ZeeAk]

At 1/9/11 10:01 PM, tinytim12 wrote: Where's ZeeAk when you need him?

Right here. ;) Quotation forthcoming.

[ZeeAk]

At 1/8/11 01:13 AM, tinytim12 wrote: He had assumed that expression ever since a Jerry grenade had gone off him, almost tearing his face apart.

This is a good way to show how the war has affected the character, and also demonstrate to us why he's fighting; now we now it's a personal vendetta. Though, 'since a Jerry grande had gone off him' is a little weird. Perhaps just, 'His face never changed. Not since the grenade had nearly torn his face apart.'

But, after all, he was a rookie. The others weren't, but to him, it was all the same. They were all human beings, men he had taken upon himself to keep alive. Right now, they were taking refuge in an abandoned church, and as soon as they had rested enough they would move.

A rookie being comfortable enough during a war to light a cigarette? Maybe I'm confused as to the characters, but this seems a bit odd. Are you still talking about Cap here? It gets a little misleading by rapidly introducing characters and referring to them all as 'he'.

Note: As I read further, this point was clarified. However, it's still murky here. Consider changing one of the he's in that paragraph to Al. i.e. After all, Al was a rookie.

'Join the army, they said,' laughed Mendy. 'Uncle Sam wants you to get your goddamn asses killed!' He subsided into silence for a while, and then added, 'I envy those fucking kids.'

'"Join the army," they said,' laughed Mendy. '"Uncle Sam wants you to.."'
When a character is quoting another line of external dialogue, you need to add another set of quotation marks. The last line is correct, though.

'I've heard stories,' Al looked down, red flushing to his cheeks. 'That on Christmas day last year, all the Germans, and the Americans, they just - lay down their rifles, and went to play soccer. Embraced each other as friends.'

A really cool little bit of history there, for anyone who doesn't realise that it's actually true.

but there only Christmas he had spent in this war

Consider revising. It doesn't completely make sense.

'Everything's the same,' Rude murmured, never taking his eyes off the knife. 'There will be no truce. Never a truce.' His voice sounded weary, a true veteran's voice. He was the only one with his helmet still on, like he couldn't be bothered to take it off.
'Fuck you,' Mendy downed half of his fourth bottle before continuing. 'Fuck everyo - '

Does this guy have an iron liver?

'Shh!' Cap bolted up to the altar and clapped his hand over the American soldiers' mouth.
There was an eerie silence. Al nervously shifted his rifle Rude stopped playing with the knife and now clutched it tightly, the blade gleaming wickedly in the moonlight.
'What?' Al whispered, his whole body shuddering.
'I thought I heard something.'
More silence.

Admirable use of suspense here, but you could make it a bit more hard-hitting. There's no real threat to the soldiers, and they all seem to take it in their stride; no-one carefully takes up defensive positions, no-one really starts to worry about the threat of death.

But the Al had relaxed,

Again, minor error.

'You gonna have two at the same time?' said Mendy incredulously.
'Helps to distract me,' murmured Cap, taking in deep, unhealthy breaths.

I like that each of the characters has their own little action; it helps to define them. What I mean by that is Cap smoking, Mendy drinking and the like.

'Oi!' Cap shouted, but it was too late. Mendy raised the ball above his head, and hurled it with all his strength. It zoomed out of the window.

Forgive me if I'm wrong, but oi isn't a very American word. Seems out of place, especially seeing as you've clearly stated that these are American soldiers.

If Cap had been heard, it didn't show. Mendy flung open the doors. Cap started after him, but his feet slipped on one of the beer bottles lying on the floor, and he tumbled to the ground, cursing. By the time he got up, Mendy had gone.

Not sure that you need the full stop between Mendy leaving and Cap running after him:
Mendy flung open the doors, Cap starting off behind him. As he did so, Cap inadvertently slipped on one of the numerous beer bottles lying discarded on the floor. Tumbling to the ground, cursing, he watched as Mendy stepped out of sight, on the dangerous side of the church's threshold.

Every nerve in Cap's body screamed Coward.

Coward seems out of place. Cap's getting angry at the others for not wanting to chase a drunken, careless idiot. Especially when Mendy recklessly tossed Al's little relic out into a potential war zone. Calling him a coward is a bit harsh after that.

'Over there,' Cap pointed to a clump of fences. 'That's about where the ball landed. He'll be there...I hope.'

Unnecessary '...'. A single full stop would suffice; it's too different thoughts, therefore two different sentences.

'Do you believe that, Cap?'

'Do you believe it, Cap?' Using that makes it sound as if they've discussed it recently. Which, when you know what they're referring to, you realise they haven't.

At that moment, they arrived at the town cemetery. Mendy was there, holding up a bright red ball in triumph. Just as Cap was about to call out to him, three Germans melted out of the trees.

Melted is an awkward verb. People don't 'melt'. How about, 'three Germans seemed to materialise out of the trees'?

Scarface stepped forward. 'Guten Abend!' he called out.
'Was machst du? Totet ihn!' Smiley shouted.
'Halt die klappe!' Scarface shouted back.

I like your use of German here. Helps with the authenticity of the story, and really makes sure we remember that they're not the good guys.

Big Nose raised his rifle uncertainly. Mendy swore.
'I ain't gonna die on Christmas day,' he growled.

Direct dialogue should be on a separate line. Even though he's not explicitly saying it to anyone, it is implied that he is addressing the Germans, despite them not being able to understand.

The German officer didn't even blink. Faster than Cap could light a cigarette, Scarface drew a : revolver and shot Mendy twice in the face.

Soldiers actually aren't trained to aim for head shots, as far as I'm aware. At least, I don't think it was the case during war. Despite the proximity of Mendy to the Germans, chest shots were preferred as there are more vital organs. Head shots are generally used for the purposes of extreme violence and vengeance. Shooting Mendy in the chest would have been more effective.
Maybe's that just me, though.

[ZeeAk]

At 1/8/11 01:14 AM, tinytim12 wrote: Cap retreated behind the statue. They were passing right through the cemetery, right where he and Rude was, and therefore - Rude! Where was he?

Get rid of therefore. The human mind works faster than that; Cap would have realised that Rude was missing almost as soon as he thought the name, not the second or so afterwards. Therefore just lengthens this unnecessarily out.

'Shit!' Cap swore, lighting a fourth cigarette and sticking it in between his teeth. He raised the M1 rifle and peered round the statue.

First of all, does he have four bloody cigarettes in his mouth? Secondly, lighting a cigarette in the heat of battle, no matter how fast he can do it, is a stupid move. If his position had already been revealed, he should be spitting them from his mouth, as opposed to lighting another. Having to not swallow a cigarette is a distraction that a soldier doesn't need in the heat of battle.

As Cap reloaded, Rude sat in his position, holding the knife with his right hand. He brought it down to his wrist, pressing it down on the skin. A small drop of blood oozed out.

As much as you're trying to use this for dramatic purposes, it has absolutely no foreshadowing. Unless Rude and Mendy were somehow in love, which was actually a discharge-able offence during World War II, he has absolutely no reason to slit his wrists, whether or not in battle.

Rude slowly moved forwards, like a man on death row. Bullets slammed into the tombs around him, but Rude continued.

Again dramatic but not necessary. It would be more poignant if he sacrificed himself to save Cap just as they were about to return to the church. There's no strategic, logical or emotional reason for Rude to go off and get himself killed before his superior is actually safe.

A bullet slammed into Rude's left shoulder. Blood and bone splurted out. Rude didn't even slow. Two more bullets hit him in the chest, but he kept going. Cap spat out two cigarettes and inserted one more. With a shaking hand, he lit it, and leaned back on the statue, trying to hold back tears.

This man is either medically reliant on smoking, or he simply has killed off too many brain cells with the chemicals to realise that this is stupid. Some people can smoke a packet a day, not a packet per firefight. It's getting over the top, especially as this is supposed to be dramatic, sentimental moment.

Three more bloody holes appeared in his back. Rude turned slowly round, his expression the one of a man who was looking forward to a good rest, and then pointed his middle finger skywards.
There was one last crack, and then Rude fell down, landing softly on the snow.

They seem to die with no fanfare at all, just simply slopping to the ground. This is okay in a story where the whole point is to get across the sheer quantity of death in World War 2, but in a character driven story, it's not as strong as it should be.

Cap saw him fall, and sighed. He lit another cigarette and leaned out.

Again.

He reloaded the pistol, panting. This was screwed up. He hated himself, and he hated the world.

He's getting uncharacteristically melodramatic, now. If he'd ordered the deaths of both men, then it's understandable that he'd be a little self-resenting, but both of them acted of their own accord; and both stupidly.

There was a cocking sound, and a rifle was pointed at Bignose's face.
'I suggest you drop your weapon,' Al said calmly. 'Before anyone gets hurt.'
'Al!' Cap shouted in surprise.
'No one else is going to die,' whispered the rookie, his whole body trembling. 'Cap, lower your pistol.'
'Are you cra - '
Al suddenly felt the cold steel of a German Luger pointed at his head.
'Bleiben noch,' said Scarface, the officer's badge on his uniform gleaming.

The floor of them

Basic error - four.

'Listen - listen,' Al spoke rapidly. 'You can't do this. We can all walk away from here.'
'He won't listen to you, Al,' Cap shouted. Indeed, Scarface's expression remained stony faced.
'Please,' Al pleaded, looking into the cold eyes. 'I promise, if you guys lower your guns we'll lower ours. Please, just trust us.'
Scarface's facial muscles did not move an inch. He inclined his head, and shouted an order to Big Nose. 'Keine notwendigkeit fur die bekampfung.'
Nobody moved. Cap waited, sweat trickling down his face. He had no idea what had just been said, but he knew it would take just one shot for this to end in a bloodbath.
'Nein,' Bignose replied, a snarl on his face.
Scarface stared his comrade directly in the eye. 'Es ist Weihnachten.'
Dead silence. Then, as one, Scarface and Bignose lowered their weapons.
'Merry Christmas,' Scarface snarled in broken English. He holstered his pistol, spat on the ground, and walked out of the cemetery, Bignose following uncertainly behind. They didn't look back.

Cap covered them with his pistol until they were out of sight, and then he lowered it. 'Damn, Al,' he swore. 'That was a stupid thing to do.'

Al held up a red ball. 'Well, Cap, I guess I just found my Christmas spirit.'
Cap noticed he was smoking dead cigarettes, and spat them out. He didn't insert another one. 'Come on, let's bury them.'
The two of them set about doing their grisly work. Ordinarily Cap wouldn't have bothered burying the German as well, but hey, it was Christmas. Whatever that meant.

Comes across as a little cliche. Personally, I'd have it read as,
Cap immediately set to work burying the dead, reverently placing them side by side in the bloodied snow. He paid as much respect and care to the German corpse as he did to the bodies of his comrades. Al looked on in wonder, shaking at how close he'd come to having his life similarly ended.
'Cap, why the German, too?'
Cap paused, not entirely sure. He looked up at Al, noting the fear in his eyes. He smiled, slightly, and shrugged.
'It's Christmas, Al. Whatever that means.'

Overall, definitely not bad. Could use with some fine-tuning of a few ideas, like Cap and his goddamn addiction to cigarettes, and Al's sudden discovery of courage - especially after obviously being able to see the three bodies and the threat of death - but I can't argue with the content.