The War To End All Wars

Chapter 5

The late afternoon sun cast a warm, golden glow over Danzig, illuminating the streets with a peaceful charm. The city bustled with life, and Poland couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride as she walked down the cobblestone streets. She smiled and waved at the civilians who greeted her warmly, her heart swelling at the sight of her people going about their lives, blissfully unaware of the storm looming just beyond the horizon.

As she walked, she passed by groups of young recruits, marching in formation. They saluted her as she walked by, and she returned the gesture with a firm nod, her smile never fading. Danzig was a beautiful city, a place where history and modernity intertwined seamlessly, and for a moment, she could forget about the tensions building across Europe.

Poland inhaled deeply, letting the cool air fill her lungs, and for a brief, fleeting moment, she allowed herself to believe that everything would be fine. That her homeland would remain untouched by the chaos that was spreading like wildfire across the continent. She could still hold on to hope, at least for today.

As she made her way further down the street, something nagged at her. An uneasy feeling prickled the back of her neck, like a shadow creeping just out of sight. She slowed her pace, glancing over her shoulder. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary at first—people continued to move about, the sounds of everyday life filling the air. But then, she saw him.

A man, tall and dressed in a German military uniform, was walking in her direction. His gait was measured, deliberate. He didn’t look like a regular officer, though. There was something off about him, something that made her instinct scream to keep her distance. His eyes were cold, calculating, and there was a heaviness in the air around him.

Poland quickened her pace, hoping to lose him in the crowd. But as she moved faster, so did he. His long strides easily kept up with her, and every time she glanced back, there he was, following closely. Her heart raced, a mix of fear and suspicion taking hold of her. She needed to get away, to find somewhere safe where she could gather her thoughts.

Spying a local bank just ahead, Poland darted inside, her pulse quickening. The doors closed behind her with a soft click, and she moved to one of the benches near the entrance, sitting down and trying to calm her breathing. She kept her eyes on the door, waiting.

It didn’t take long. The man stepped through the doorway, his eyes immediately locking onto her. He made no effort to hide his presence now. Calmly, as though nothing were out of the ordinary, he approached the bench where she sat and sat down beside her.

“What do you want?” Poland hissed, keeping her voice low but filled with the edge of her growing unease. She turned her body slightly away from him, her muscles tense.

For a moment, he didn’t respond. Instead, he slowly pulled off one of his black leather gloves, revealing a human hand—at first. But as she watched, that hand shifted, flickered, as though reality itself was bending. It transformed into a dark red hand, the unmistakable hand of the Third Reich.

Poland’s breath caught in her throat. She knew now who this man was, or rather, what he was.

The Third Reich.

Nazi Germany.

Her heart sank. She had feared this moment would come, had tried to ignore it, to push it to the back of her mind. But here it was, unavoidable. Without a word, she stood up and motioned for him to follow. Together, they left the bank and walked down the street, side by side but with an invisible chasm between them. The people of Danzig continued their day, unaware of the tension that had just entered their midst.