"You mean … you can get me a job as a general for our leader?" The man, with his wavy gray hair and robust figure, felt his heart lurch and his eyes widen as he stared at the man in front of him.
He had been a general for quite some time, but not for the Führer - rather, he had been a general in Russia, the attache in Moscow. For a while, he had been itching to climb up in the ranks. Sitting in a chair in Moscow, surrounded by several Soviets, just wouldn't do. He had put up with it for too long, and felt as if he would explode if he had to speak in Russian one more time.
As of now, Germany was ravaged by war. Several people had been trying to unite the land, but there were uprisings everywhere. It never seemed to stop. Battles raged left and right, fighting for control of the land and peace for the country. Krebs wanted to do everything he could to help his regime to unite the territory, but he wasn't sure if he could do it by sitting idly in Russia.
The bald man in front of him, known as General Jodl, was short, with a glaring head. He was chubby, with piercing eyes and broad shoulders. He tugged his collar, and nodded. "I think so. He needs more people to guide him. I can't stay with him all the time. But there's something you should know. The person, who basically is the second highest ranking in the military, will be around him very often, and he's kind of a dick."
"I've dealt with those before," the first man grumbled, glancing at his feet.
Jodl rolled his eyes. "Not this one, I can guarantee you that." He glanced back at the building behind him, which was a concrete bunker. "I'm going to introduce you to the Führer. He's a bad tempered, ranting old fool. Just … don't get on his bad side, all right?"
"All right." The man followed Jodl into the bunker, and the two picked their way down crowded stairs. Several people were in the bunker, not seeming to pay attention to a new recruit. All they did was brush against the two men, not giving them so much as a second glance.
Jodl leaned into the man's' ear. "It's usually like this," he hissed. "Get used to it."
The man, sweating and cramped, just nodded. He continued to navigate his way through the maze of people until Jodl led him into another hallway. In the hallway stood an unusually tall man with wide shoulders and hair thick with gel. His face held a stoic gaze as he gazed at the two. "Is this our new general?" he asked.
Jodl nodded. "Günsche, meet General Krebs. Krebs, meet Günsche."
Günsche walked over to Krebs. "Pleasure to meet you," he said, shaking Krebs' hand.
"And you," Krebs said.
"He's basically Hitler's informer," Jodl explained. "Hitler likes to get his rage out on him."
Krebs glanced at Jodl. "What do you mean?"
"I'm his scapegoat," Günsche clarified.
"And you … you let that?" Krebs turned to Günsche.
Günsche shrugged. "It does not bother me."
"Huh." Krebs tipped his head. He seems really laid back. Maybe we could be friends. "Well, good to meet you."
"Let me introduce you to the Führer."
Krebs turned to Jodl questioningly. Jodl nodded. "Anything to get me away from him." Without waiting for another comment from either Krebs or Günsche, Jodl spun away and disappeared into the bunker's hallway. Krebs let out a small sigh, his shoulders slumping.
"Are you all right?" Günsche asked, concern twinging his voice.
"What?" Krebs looked up. "Oh, yeah, I'm fine. I'm just tired."
"If you're not okay, you can tell me," Günsche said.
"I'm really fine," Krebs insisted.
Günsche narrowed his eyes. "All right. Let's go, then." He led Krebs down the hallway and in front of a door against the walls. He knocked on the door, but when there was no response, he pushed it open. He held the door for Krebs, who walked in first.
In front of him, the Führer sat down in a chair, a map laid out in the desk in front of him. His dark brown hair swept over his face, and his eyes were screwed on the map as he studied it intently. When the door opened, he lifted his head, and Krebs knew that from his short, square shaped mustache, that this was Hitler.
"What the hell, Günsche?" Hitler's eyes seemed to shoot flames. "I told you to never interrupt me while I'm looking for Berlin."
"Apologies, my Führer," Günsche said.
"Who's this bumbling idiot?" Hitler glanced at Krebs. "Did I give permission for him to come in the bunker? Do you want your head on a silver plate, Günsche?"
Günsche didn't seem fazed by Hitler's attitude, although Krebs had to stop himself from shrinking away. "This is the new general you asked for. His name is General Krebs, and he will be serving you as the Chief of Staff."
"Oh, I completely forgot I asked for a new chief. Guderian's an idiot." Hitler got up, brushing against a man with slick dirty blonde hair. Krebs couldn't ignore how the blonde haired man was fixing him with a dark, disapproving blue glare.
"Hello, my Führer," Krebs greeted Hitler as he walked over to him. "I'm willing to serve you."
"So you should be," Hitler said. "I've got two rules for you. Don't be a fucking idiot, and don't be the reason why I get mad. Got it?"
"Got it," Krebs said.
"Good." Hitler glanced at the general behind him, who was still glaring at Krebs. When Hitler's gaze focused on him, he looked up. "That's General Burgdorf."
"Hi," Krebs greeted Burgdorf, hoping for a friendly welcome.
Instead, Burgdorf snorted. "Why do you look like you'll mess up already?"
Ouch. This is the guy Jodl was talking about. Hitler paid no attention to Burgdorf's bitter attitude, and gestured to another man next to Burgdorf. He had sunken eyes with protruding cheekbones, and he was dressed in a yellow uniform. Krebs had to stop himself from gasping at the man's skeletal appearance. "This is Goebbels, or as I like to call him, Skeletor."
Goebbels dipped his head respectfully to Krebs. Hitler was quiet for a few moments, before nodding to Burgdorf. "Show him his room."
Burgdorf narrowed his eyes, obviously less than pleased, but he didn't seem to want to argue. Don't wanna get on Hitler's bad side, do you? He walked over to Krebs, not even giving him so much as a glance, and left the room. Krebs trotted after him.
Maybe I should try to talk to him. I don't want to get on his bad side either. "So … uh, your name's Burgdorf, right?" Krebs asked.
"Are you deaf?" Burgdorf's voice was curt.
"N-no … I just wanted to confirm." Krebs winced. Bad start.
"Yes, that's my name." Burgdorf still didn't look at him.
"What do you do?"
Burgdorf halted, finally looking at him. "You're just confirming that you're a fool."
"But I'm curious." Krebs gazed up at him, refusing to be intimidated by his burning stare. "What's your role with the war going on?"
Burgdorf snorted. "I take care of it. Hitler can't do it anymore, he focuses his life on ranting and rambling. I'm the one who's directing all of these battles. Who do you think is fighting it, or organizing the front lines?"
Krebs' eye twitched.
Burgdorf went on. "Now, shut up and stop asking questions. I'm only putting up with you because I have to, and I doubt you'll even last a month. Foolish boy."
Boy? Krebs bit his lip to keep himself from lashing out at the bad tempered general. Burgdorf continued to be silent until he led him to his room. He opened the door, walking in first. He flickered the light, to show Krebs a medium sized room with a full sized bed in the middle, and nothing else.
"This is your room," Burgdorf said. "Bye." With a small snort, the general turned his head on Krebs and walked away.
Krebs watched him, and when he was gone, he collapsed on his bed. Jesus Christ. I just met with one of the nicest guys I've ever known, and one of the rudest. Huh. But maybe there's an actual person behind that mask of Burgdorf's … maybe he really isn't a prick. But for now, he's an absolute dick.
However, something told Krebs that he wanted to know this general even more.