Shots of War

A series of WW2-era Oneshots


2. Slaughterhouse

Warning: references to some (really) sensitive spots in history, implications of Germany-is-HRE

Disclaimer: Haha yeah right.

Ashes blew in the wind, gently settling on the grassy slopes of Oświęcim (1). Miles away from where the bodies burned behind fences of stone and wire.

Bodies of people who ran. Spread so far and few that the only thing that put them different was the faith they brought from home, woven into an invisible web that ran through Europe. (2)

The people of Poland.



Call them what you want. In the end, they all came from Israel.

The Fruhrer said they were of an inferior race. That they were poisoning society.

To be grouped like cattle and burned to ashes, and then to burn the ashes.

The Fruher said a lot of things, really.

Germany remembered the day he rose to power.

It was a bright day in Nuremberg, and the Nazi representative was elected as leader. He didn't seem much, honestly. A failed artist from Austria who spent the last war passing messages to and fro, surviving on blind, spineless luck.

To clarify, he seemed almost mad.

Swastikas everywhere, which he claimed to be the 'black sun' worshipped by Germanic tribes.

That there was an Aryan race that was supposed to be superior.

Some part in the back of the nation's mind told him it wasn't true.

Liar. You didn't know Opa. You didn't reject a pagan belief for crucifixes and saints. You didn't return a promise you promised to keep.

He would always push it away, fearing the pain that would follow. It was many time a year ago that happened, during what was called the First Reich. He should have forgotten. More of, he hoped he would. (3)

Once upon a time, in 1930, there was a depression. After the heir of Austria was killed and a great war began, Germany held the blame.

Hitler promised to make the country great again. Pull them out of the depression, make an empire like of old.

And so he struck a deal with Russia, conquered the European mainland, and betrayed his ally.

France was so proud he never got to Paris the last time. Now, it was under his control, along with the rest of the country.

The Germany from ten years ago would've been horrified. But he was gone, in his place a Germany who wore Death's Head on his cap with pride, accompanied by a brother, a former nation reduced to paper and memories (4).

In the streets of Munich everyone was greeted with a heil. Some days, Germany wondered how many meant it, how many did it out of fear.

Fear is the worst foundation for an empire.

Opa always said that. Those empires were sometimes powerful, some lasted for years, but when they fell, it was long, brutal and bloody.

Nations healed. Limbs grew back, their wounds would scar.

But no human of a nation returned to life. None of them would wake up one day to find their mind healthy. Terrifyingly delicate, with their country's fate in their hands.

The inevitable was, empires fell.

It may be years, or simple hours before he did too.

You're a coward. The sensible part of him said, A fool. No honorable country destroys entire generations of people. None of them betray an ally. None of them promised to return a thousand years ago and never came back.

He paid no attention. It was his tragic flaw, really, to be a loyal soldier. He knew the SS were leaving people in mass graves. He knew that the nation may as well by ruled by madmen, that people were dying by the thousands in a frozen wasteland against a betrayed ally. And yet he stayed beside his superior, soaking his hands through with blood.

You're the Holy Roman Empire, they said. You have a duty to fulfill, to take your rightful place.

No, I'm not. If I was, I would have remembered.

I do remember. I just don't know what to do.

Italy. His Italy. Once upon a time, he promised to return.

Once upon a time, he felt pain. Insufferable and piercing, buried so deep into his heart that even now, when he tried to forget, wanted to forget, there was a silent ache in his chest.

During the siege of Leningrad his brother stole the Amber Room. It used to be a symbol of peace between them.

That was gone, along with his friendship with the Soviet Union.

The world is swirling around me, growing madder by the second.

Maybe I am too.

(1)Where Auschwitz-Birkenau was located, in Poland

(2)Also known as the Jewish Diaspora

(3)I'm talking about the Napoleonic Wars, when France basically destroyed HRE.

(4)Prussia was dissolved into Germany during WW2. I'm lazy, if you want to learn more go Google it.

Random stuff:

Opa- Grandfather (referring to Germania)

If Opa doesn't actually mean grandfather I will honest to god flip a table and proclaim all German a lie.

Daaaaaaayyuuummm. This started as Hitler is a bitch and ended up as a bunch of Germany is HRE angst.

I'm basically praying that these chapters aren't gonna start growing shorter. (and I'm atheist, so that's a big deal guys)

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