World At War

Ch. 7: And So It Begins.

Germany, his hands folded behind his back, pushed his way through Belgium, all of the Netherlands, and the Ardennes. There stood France,  his back turned to Germany. "This will be too easy." Germany laughed, he soaked a piece of cloth and approached France. "Excuse me, does this smell like chloroform to you?" Germany asked, holding the cloth to France's face, blocking his nose and mouth. France passed out, Germany then dragged him to Paris, threw him in a small hut and locked the door. "I actually enjoyed that." Germany smiled, "Now that France is out of the way, I can get to Britain easier. This is going splendid, don't you agree?" Germany turned to the soldier behind him. The soldier jumped, not knowing Germany noticed his prescence.

"Yes, sir, I have information for you." the soldier stated.

"Go on." Germany slipped his house key in his pocket and looked the soldier in his eyes.

The soldier trembled a bit and pulled a paper from his satchel, "Britain has sunk the Bismark." Germany immediately slapped the soldier.

"How could you allow this to happen?" Germany shouted.

"I'm sorry, Germany, sir, we didn't know it would happen..." the soldier whimpered.

"Get out of my face." Germany snarled. The soldier hurried away from Germany, thanking the lord his life was spared. Germany couldn't just let Britain blow up his things like this, retaliation was in order.

Britain sat in her office, France had been taken. She had to find a way into Germany's house without getting captured as well. America wasn't answering her calls and Russia had gone insane, she was one of the only Allies left. She stood and looked out of her window, citizens were walking along happily, running errands and playing ball in the street. Britain looked at the bright blue sky, not a cloud could be seen. It was a beautiful morning. It was then when Britain saw something, black dots from afar. They were too big to be birds and were too dark to be weather balloons. They were fighter planes, and not ones of her own. She turned and yelled for her commander, he ran in almost immediately. "Yes ma'am?" the commander saluted her.

"German bombers coming in, get the Royal Air Force." Britian ordered.

"Yes ma'am!" the commander saluted Britain and ran out of the room. It was too late, the Germany bombers had already started bombing her cities. She had heard of Germany's fighting style, Blitzkrieg. Bombing with planes, then ground artillary comes in and blows up more of the city, and lastly infantry comes and mops up. Blitzkrieg translates to Lightning Warefare in english. Britain watched from her window, sneering at the German bombers.

As she did this, Germany watched from his battle ship with a large smile on his face. His smile disappeared when he saw the Royal Air Force. They seemed to know exactly where to hit, the German fighters put up a great fight, but the Royal Air Force came out as the victors in the end. Germany swore in his native tongue, spinning around and kicking things off of his ship. German sailors stopped to watch him as he kicked and punched at the air in pure anger. He stopped to stare back at the sailors, panting and glaring. "What did you stop for? Get back to work!" Germany ordered. The sailors hurried off to turn the battle ship around, Germany glared at Britain's country, he turned and prepared to go to France.

"What are we to do now, sir?" a sailor asked.

"Go to France, then we will advance for the Soviet Union." Germany answered.

"Sir...if I may say...we have a non-aggression pact with the Soviet Union..." the sailor said.

Germany chuckled, "That old thing? It's merely words, junge!" Germany stated and walked away from the sailor. The sailor sighed and ran to his post.