I am about to lead several million people, including myself into a war. Saying that I am stressed is an understatement. As I sit there on my cot I can’t help but think about my mother, missing her greatly, and wishing that she were here to guide me. My mother who died of breast cancer is the only person whom I truly care for. I mean I care deeply for my girlfriend and am very fond of her but I can not say that I truly love her like I do my mother. Thoughts continue to swirl through my head, resulting in a migraine.
Sighing, I run my hand through my relatively short hair trying to clear my mind, as I stare down at the dirt floor and look at my currently bare feet. Knowing that I need to get in my war attire and prepare to lead everyone to war I can not help but have my doubts. I know I was the one to order this war, seeing as how I am the ruler of this country, but I can not help but have second thoughts. Second thoughts about knowing how I am about to send millions of men, some young some old, possibly to their deaths weighs in the back of my mind. Guilt clouds my mind but I shake my head clearing away those thoughts, knowing that it is far too late now. Deciding that I just need to man up, because these people would not be here if they didn’t know what they were getting into. Well unless they were enlisted, which could very well be the case for a lot of them... Groaning in frustration I run my hand through my hair roughly, tugging at it, frustrated with the thoughts running through my head.
I slip on my war attire nonetheless which consists of a hat, socks, boots, pants, a long sleeve shirt, and a jacket -which is highly decorative from all the medals I have earned. I look down at my attire and feel a little guilty for having such nice attire compared to the men and boys out there, but the guilt quickly fades as I remember that I am ranked higher than all of them, so I deserve the best of the best. I am drawn out of my thoughts by someone clearing their throat outside of my chambers.
“General are you ready?” Asks a man in his late twenties, early thirties.
I nod my head and tell him that I will be there in one second. Nodding his head, he walks out giving me a moment to collect myself and my thoughts. I walk over to my cot and grab my pocket watch off of it and slip it into my breast pocket. I walk out of my chambers and into the frigid air. My feet crunch the already hardened snow, that could not have fallen more than ten minutes ago. I breathe out into the chilling air, seeing my breath for a few seconds before it disappears. I shake my head in amazement of how cold it has gotten, before thrusting my hands into my pockets, seeing as how they already numb from the cold. As I walk further away from my living quarters and closer towards my recruits, I can not help but take in their appearances.
Only a few of the men wear similar attire to myself; boots, jacket, long sleeve shirt, pants, and a hat. Most of the men and boys wear tattered clothing and are not even wearing shoes. The smart ones wrapped whatever spare cloth they can find around their feet to try and keep them from the elements. Clearing of a throat drags me out of my thoughts.
“Sir, are you ready to give your speech?” A man in his late fifties early sixties asks.
“Yes, I am ready to give my speech.” The man nods and steps out in front of the crowd of men and boys and alerts them I am about to give a speech. I step out in front of the crowd of males and clear my throat.
“As all of you should know I am Adolf Hitler your Fuhrer...-”