The Soldiers

A German Saved Me?

I struggled to wake up. I felt sore and tired. I tried to stand. Pain shot though me. I rolled over and gasped. My leg! It had a hole above the knee. Blood and pus leaked out of it. The skin all under the hole was a sickly yellow. I passed out again.

In and out of consciences for days. Wake up, pass out. I knew at one point I was gonna die. I had been left for dead. Until one day. As I woke up, I saw a tall figure, standing over me. I couldn't see him because the sun shined in my eyes. He bent down to look at me. When I saw what he looked like, I started to scream. A German soldier.

He was kinda short, but very muscular. He had glasses and black hair with red hair flopped on the side. His outfit was mostly camouflage, except for a big patch on his outfit. The black,red and gold flag. He had the look of a hard life on his face. A long scar on his arm.

He clasped a hand over my mouth. When he spoke, he had a deep voice. Like God. "Shhhhh,kid. I'm not gonna hurt you. I want to help you. You got shot bad."

When I spoke, my thick Irish accent made him smile. " W-why help me?"
He chucked. "Man, you potatoes sound funny. I can see your just a kid. I bet you never killed anyone. Bet you don't want to either. Well, kid, you've survived a few days now. Very impressive considering your wound." I remembered the shot in my knee. "We need a kid like you on our team. We'll train you, feed you, what do you say, kid?"

I didn't want to die or starve in a frozen field. My vision was blurring again. Before I passed out, I managed to whisper  "yes..."