baumer and friends

bringing back a classic... tactical pile

concept portraits of albert kropp

i read somewhere random that his earlobe gets shot off in chapter five and i swear didn't see it anywhere in the book but it was a cool creative liberty to take with his design, i think i'm keeping it for a little more character

All Quiet On The Western Front (2022)

My thirteen reasons:

1- Ludwig's death and Paul crying over him.

2- Thinking how much Ludwig's death affected Albert and Franz.

3- The boys straving.

4- Tjaden's dream of being a ranger smashing into pieces.

5- Kropp craving for female company.

6- Sad Kat when talking about his dead son and going back to "their past".

7- Tjaden giving Paul Eloise's handkerchief.

8- Paul watching Albert die.

9- Paul screaming at Tjaden that he cannot tell him that he should be grateful for being alive.

10- Tjaden killing himself.

11- Kat sadness after Tjaden's death.

12- Paul's face the whole last 20 minutes of the film after Kat's death.

13- Thinking that Kat didn't make it home to his wife, lighted the candles on Christmas, kissed her and visited his son's grave for his 10th birthday.

Goodbye everyone. It was nice meeting you all.

Well I was NOT expecting this from a WAR MOVIE (I know he's referring to the dirty gun but that was a SMACK in the face)

Literally Kat in that scene

Just read All Quiet on the Western Front in one seating and I know it’s supposed to tell me about the horrors of war and to do that it HAS to be miserable it HAS to be meaningless but PAUL KAT ALBERT and I can’t possibly stop myself from crying

Albrecht Schuch and Edin Hasanović being cuties during the premier of All Quiet on the Western Front

Bonus:

Felix cute waving ~

The Boys (TM) looking dandy in their outfits!

Just as we turn into animals when we go up to the line, because that is the only thing which brings us through safely, so we turn into wags and loafers when we are resting.

We can do nothing else, it is a sheer necessity.

[...] But our comrades are dead, we cannot help them, they have their rest--and who knows what is waiting for us? We will make ourselves comfortable and sleep, and eat as much as we can stuff into our bellies, and drink and smoke so that hours are not wasted. Life is short.

(ALL QUIET ON THE WESTERN FRONT by Erich Maria Remarque)

if rarepairs weren't enough to break my heart with whilst i obsess over them, i present to you an unexpected ship i thought up and its actually adorable

franz kemmerich x albert kropp

this may be unrealistic....but gay men in the 1910s is "unrealistic" anyway (putting quotation marks bc we have always been here but anyway)

my fav pair is obviously paul and franz but i also ship paul and albert sometimes and it occurred to me the adorable potential of albert and franz so if anyone wants to help me come up with cute prompts i would appreciate it

also a poly of paul, albert and franz would be so wholesome. poly representation please !!!!!

this is how that scene plays in my head

you guys got any headcanons on the friend group (Paul, Kat, Albert, Tjaden, Franz, and Ludwig) if they were in modern times???

Piano Man

I have to finish my Paul/Kemmerich fanfiction, but here is a short text that I wrote while listening to Billy Joel’s song. I will publish it on AO3 later, I think. 

Basically, we’re in 1923, Albert Kropp is playing piano every Saturday night and he feels sad. 

On Saturday’s night, a motley crew invades the seedy bar where I play the piano. My part-time job, as I call it, pays well - for seven hours a week, I get all the booze that I want. If I’m feeling generous, I “buy” a round of drinks for everyone.  A young man sits beside me. The battle of Passchendaele claimed his left eye ; the right one, dark blue, follows every movement of my hands. He always drinks a glass of the cheapest, strongest liquor he can find. His left hand is also missing, and small scars cover a side of his face. I don’t know if he ever saw that I had a prosthetic leg. Maybe that’s why he always comes… Along with a few prostitutes, he’s part of the regulars. Some middle-aged men attempt to mix with the crowd, but their elegant costumes clash with the other’s outfits. They ask me to play joyful songs, and I obey. No Liszt, Mozart, or Chopin here ; only drinking songs. Sometimes, a man recognizes me : “We were in the Second Company together, comrade. Don’t you remember me ?” I nod and shake his hand.  As the night goes on, people gather around me and my old black piano. Regularly, a fight erupts in the room, but I never pay attention to it - now I’m used to that . The fellow with the single blue eye never leaves before the bar closes. I don’t mind his presence, especially when he’s alone with me, at two in the morning. This is when I close my eyes. Suddenly, eight men appear ; their faces gleam in the dim, reddish light. The oldest is forty years old, thin, with a blond mustache and piercing blue eyes. Our dear old Kat. He left his wife and his children to be with us, what an honor ! A young man, whose delicate beauty I have always admired, sits next to me. Franz Kemmerich is a good piano player too, even better than me. His shyness prevents him from taking my place, but maybe we will try a duet one night… His lover, Paul Bäumer, holds his hand, his bright eyes beaming with quiet joy. He is my best friend. Another fellow, a sardonic smile on his face, sits on a bar stool. Müller always has a book in his hand, because he appears smarter with it - or that’s what he says. The plump one, Behm, smiles at me before sitting next to Müller. How does he always look so youthful ? We seem older than our ages, with our wrinkled foreheads and our bent shoulders. The three others are accompanied. Leer, the dandy of the group, brings a different woman each week. I wonder where he finds them in our small town : I suspect a majority of them are already married. Then Haie Westhus, his freckled, kind face leaning towards his plump little fiancée. He was so proud to present her to us… The last one is slightly withdrawn from us, but he seems content to see us all there. Detering never leaves his wife’s side ; sometimes, they bring me a good piece of cheese or delicious cherries.  Haie waltzes clumsily with his fiancée, Paul begs Franz to do the same, and Leer is too occupied with his new romantic conquest to dance. The others are quietly watching me. I love them all.  They stay with me until the owner taps on my shoulder and says : “Albert, we’re closing. It’s time to go.” Then they turn into mist, and I’m alone with him and the strange young man. He’s asleep on his chair, his light brown hair hiding his scarred face from us. When he wakes up, he simply says to me “I… I like it when you play late at night.”  I smile at him. My friends have all returned to their nameless graves, and I feel even lonelier than before. 

im gonna watch all quiet with my mom and sister tonight im so excitedddddddd 🥹🫶