Distant, distressed moans could be heard throughout the ward, as death engulfed the room. Frederick’s eyes wandered frantically, as he tried to steady his heart rate. A putrid smell violated his nostrils to the extent that breathing itself, was a battle. His vision was obstructed, as the dimmed light from a nearby candle symbolised the glimmer of hope, that was diminishing as more soldiers succumbed to their war injuries . With every minute that went by, Frederick pondered over his place in life. The stitching had begun to tear, causing him insufferable anguish. The pain from the loss of his forearm had become an unbearably heavy burden to bear. The glass on the bedside table began to shake, until it fell to the ground in an ear-splitting motion. Frederick jumped in an instant. Memories of the men, women and children tussled with his conscience, making him ponder if he could ever return to his previous self, before the war.
As he focused his mind to a place of clarity, Frederick overheard high pitched chatter coming from the nurses in the neighbouring room.
“How do you know its true? It can’t be”.
“ The doctors are all in a state of panic. Not even Churchill himself could've foreseen this.”
“ What are we to do now? Just sit and wait for the Germans to slaughter us”?
A loud thud could be heard from one of the entrances on the main floor. The banging became deafening. After one final push, the hospital gradually filled with inaudible chatter, as the Germans bombarded their way through the dilapidated infirmary.
As the boots of the enemy trudged closer and closer, Frederick became paralysed with fear, but not only for himself, but also for the state of his beloved country.
“ We’ve surrendered. The Germans have won”. He said sorrowfully.
(Present day)
10 years had passed since Nazi Britain had begun. Frederick was awoken by the familiar, yet dreaded tune of the national anthem.
“ God save our Nazi king, long live our noble Hitler…”
With a sigh, Frederick prepared himself mentally and physically, for the day ahead.
After numerous stretches, he walked towards his bedroom mirror and recited the same sentence.
“My name is Frederick McDonnell. I am not a supporter of our false leader Hitler”.
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