I really hadn't thought about what I'd gotten myself into at the time. I had completely disregarded his Canadian Military uniform because I was distracted by his beautiful hair and smooth Canadian accent. It left me breathless, helpless, even!

He was stuck in a flinching position; covering his head with his arms, expecting me to hit him or arrest him, I noticed him shaking slightly. When I noticed he had tears in his eyes, I decided to say something.

"Uh, I guess it's fine, just this once I'll turn my back, but it'd better not happen again, understood?" I said, straightening my slightly slouched posture before placing my hands on my hips and leaning in to increase possible intimidation, and I'm guessing it worked because he nodded graciously, scurried up, and hurried away without a single word more than when I bumped into him.

"Oh, I'm sorry aboot that, eh!" His smooth accent and his eyes both expressed extreme concern for me. Until, that is, he saw my German uniform and immediately tensed up in fear and anxiety. I held an arm to help him up, but he tightened his frame into a flinch.

That's when I realized, 'No one will ever know me for who I really am,' I thought as I marched off to give my frequent report, in exception to the run in with the Canadian, of course, 'They'll only know me for the bad things I do,'

"Sir," I say, standing at attention, bringing my hand up to salute my commander. "Lieutenant Beilschmidt, Bitte," I lowered my hand and stood at parade rest, then proceeded to give my report, "Sir, there is no activity that is not allowed," I stated, in hopes that he won't see through my lie.

"Beilschmidt, we need you, front lines! Prep for death or prep for nothing at all," My eyes widen at his words. Was it really that bad!? I rushed out of the tent our forces had set up to act as a partial Military base. A lower-class soldier tossed me a gun as I hurried to catch up in the action.

I loved fighting! It kept me awake at night, but that proves I'm still a human being, but It's all that has me going. I am still loyal to my people and the country I was born to, and nothing is going to change that.

It's been three days since I've been sent to the front lines and so far I've killed five Americans, seventy nine British, fifthteen French, and no Canadians. It's not that I am picking and choosing, but what if all of them have that silky smooth accent, or the beautiful violet eyes? I mean, it's not like I've seen any Canadians around, anyway. . .

"Beilschmidt, are you being picky as to who you kill because I haven't seen you touch a single Maple Leaf, and this place is crawling with 'em," The soldier to the right of me shouts over the gunfire, explosions, and the sound of agonizing screams from both sides of battle. I roll my eyes to myself and turn to them. "Entschuldigung!? Are you trying to tell me how to kill things? I can prove that I know how to shoot a gun, starting with you, if you'd like!" I shouted back, pointing my unloaded gun at him. He immediately backs away. "That's what I thought," I said silently to myself.

I reloaded the magazine into my gun. I twisted and aimed at a person. Without realizing, I shot and they came tumbling, literally onto me. Turns out, they were using him as fodder to see if they could make an advance.

"Awesome, Beilschmidt! Now, kill it," The pressure was on. I looked down on his obviously aching body, then I recognized those big sparkling violet eyes. "Nein, we can use him; he probably holds valuable information. I'll take him in," I say, hoisting him to my back and effectively crawling out of firing range.

I stood up with struggle, but managed in the meantime. Once we were partially alone, I sat him down on a blown off tree stump and tended to his wound that I created.

"Why are you doing this? You're a Nazi, eh?" He asked, wincing up at me as I suddenly tightened the bandage around his limb in which I shot him in. "You know, you North American countries only see the bad in people, well look at your own men, dammit! They used you as fucking cannon fodder, for God's sake! You're lucky I was the one that you fell on! Anyone else would've killed you within a second!" I whisper shouted as I cut and tied the bandage ends before getting him on his feet again.

"Won't this make it easier for me to escape?" He asked, looking down at his bandaged up thigh. I gestured to the fact that I was carrying his gun along with mine as well. He let out a simple, "Ooh, yeah, that wouldn't be so good,"

As we walk, I catch him stealing glances towards me. He jerks his head back and averts eye contact and immediately goes, "Sorry,"

"Stop apologizing so much," I simply say, and it looked like he was physically restraining himself from saying sorry as a response. I couldn't help but laugh.

He jerks his head to look at me and my face felt like it burnt up right then and there. I'm not supposed to show kindness to my Prisoners of War, but how can I not!? He's just about the best thing that's ever happened to me - nein! What am I saying!? He's an enemy, let alone a guy!

"Aboot that, why haven't you killed me? Why did you bandage up my wound? Aren't the secret police just going to make it worse?" He asked, looking down at his feet as he walked. He was pretty unbalanced because of the gunshot in his thigh. "Not if I'm assigned to you," and that is when things picked up.

"What? What do you mean by that?" He kept on asking questions of the same meaning, but in a different word placement of sentence structure each time. All I had to him was, "So many questions can not be answered all in one sitting, as an entire day's worth of food can not be consumed In that short time, as well,"

He scoffed, "Not of you're my brother! He'll take it as a challenge," I glance towards him to see him with a warm smile on his face. I just wanted to protect and preserve that warm welcoming smile of his. Make sure it never dimmed, nor died down.

We reached the Military base and I had to hold the Canadian's hands behind his back to make it seem like I was professional, which I was, but he was different. I don't know why.

"Beilschmidt, I see you've captured someone, well played," my commander says, taking a good look at him, "Information, now," He commanded.

The man flinched, but then gave out his name, age, rank, and base he's stationed in. My heart almost skipped a beat as I heard him say that he was only a year or two younger than me. I stood silent as I daydream about that accent of his.

"Beilschmidt, snap out of it," I hear as I see sudden snapping fingers in front of my face. "As I was saying, you'll be assigned to this one, but it if I find that the interrogation techniques are failing, I'll assign him to elsewhere, understood?"

I hastily shake my head with a quick glimpse of fear, but then act cool because he was there right next to me. "Uh, ja, but it's not like the awesome Gilbert needs help with this! I can handle one measly Canadian, come on now!"

After he dismisses us, I march him to his cell and get him situated.

"Alright, since I am the Gestapo here, I, along with others, interrogate the prisoners of War in order to get information. Now, as long as it's you that I am interrogating, I won't lay a hand on you, but if you don't give me any information, they might transfer you to someone else who's not afraid of hurting you, got that? Good," I say as I read over his papers and sit in the seat across him like a third grader with the back supporter of the chair supporting my chest instead of my back.

"Matthew, we'll be hanging out for a while now, so get yourself comfortable, why don't you~" I say, winking at him, smirking mischievously. His face heats up as he jerks his head to the side. I chuckled.

"You know, for a Gestapo, it actually looks like you don't want to hurt me," he says, partially confused . "Well, yeah! I mean, I don't know what it is, but. . . It's hard to explain, okay?" I duck my head in embarrassment.

"So, let's get to know one another, so it won't be as awkward," I said. The real reason is because I wanted to know what he likes and dislikes so I can surprise him because Christmas is coming up soon. "Uh, I guess I love Canada, eh. I also love to play hockey. . .! The feeling of freedom on the ice! On Christmas, if it's not too much of a trouble to you, I'd like to go out on the ice to feel free one last time. . ." He said, tears threatening to break loose from his eyes. I guess he's already lost hope that he'd get out.

"Of course I can do that! I am the awesome Gilbert, baby! Watch und learn, little birdie!" I said super arrogantly.

He tilted his head in confusion? "Birdie," he repeated and my face went flushed. 'Oh mein Gott!' I thought, panicked, 'I can't believe I just called him Birdie!'

"Hmm, I like it," He said, "Now, I kinda need to think of one for you, eh?" he smiled at me. My face filled with shock, I say, "You do realize that I am a Gestapo, ja?" He looked as though he was thinking, then said, "I know, but I don't think you'll do anything,"

I smirked and slowly walked around the table. As I approached him, I tilted his head up with my hand under his chin. I leaned in and slowly whispered, "Oh, yeah? And, why is that, exactly, Birdie. . .?"

I then heard shuffling from outside of the door. I tightened my grip on Matthew's lower mandible, pushing his cheeks up, probably leaving bruises from how hard I squeezed. "Act scared," I quickly whispered.

"I'll ask you once more, where are they holding their next attack!?" I yelled in his face. I was so disgusted in myself for being the one to make his smile fade. 'How dare I' I thought as I continued, 'I'm the one who should be protecting that smile, but here I am, breaking it down,' I heard the door open, then I hear Matthew's voice. "And, again I shall tell you! I don't know; they used me as fodder, I have no idea what they discuss during battle strategies. . . !"

"Bull shit! They have to consult with even the fodder on where they need to go. And, since the Americans are so far 'Ahead' than we are, they must have thought through at least until the next five battles! So, start talking or I'll chop everything off!"

"Beilschmidt, dein Bruder will du sehen," I heard from the doorway. I turned harshly, and shouted, "Tell him to wait his damn turn like everyone else in das Hell hole of a place you call a base! Word for word, too, if you'd like," He simply nodded, full of fear, then left, shutting the door behind him.

Once the door was fully shut, I made my move. Something that'll wrack his brain until I see him next. Yes, sexual torture! Genious! Why haven't I thought of this sooner!?

With my hand still holding his head up, I quickly lean down and crash my lips against his. His rejection ended almost immediately after, and I decided to break apart as soon as he accepted it. "Bye, bye, Birdie," I sang and chuckled as I walked out of the room and shut the door to go see what Ludwig wanted to talk to me about.

"Bruder," I hear a strong voice from the blond man standing in front of me. "Ja? What was so damn important that you had to take me away from my interrogation?" I demanded the reason he pulled me away from him, 'Oh, sheiße! He didn't see what happened,' I thought, internally panicking at the thought of my little brother knowing I like another man, 'Did he?'

"Oh? If you want, someone else can take over. . ." He raised his eyebrows in suspicion, but I kept as cool as I could have. "Nien! That's just like me asking you if you'd want me to take over your command while you go off, sucking faces with that cowardly Italian of yours. . .!" I shout.

His face expressed extreme panic and distress. He never was good at hiding his feelings. Or, hiding at all, really. "That's right; I know! Und, I am not afraid to let other people know, either! Leave me be und I'll leave you be, got it?"

He stands there, silently, then he hesitantly nods. "Okay, but it seems as though your judgement has been impaired since you've brought that fodder here," He said. Then, he looked mildly concerned for me. He put his hand on my forehead. "Are you sick?"

My face contorted with anger. "Don't call him that! His name is Matthew," I snapped without even thinking about it. Ludwig's eyes shot wide in shock and his hand dropped like lead as he heard my words. "Was? Bruder, leibst du der Matthew?" He asked. I stayed silent, then I finally answered him, tuning harshly to avoid the look of disappointment on his face as I say,

"Ich weiß nicht!"

I heavily marched down the hallway leading to my quarters and office.

"Ludwig ist blöd sein!" I mumbled to myself as I plopped myself at my desk an sighed greatly as I unbutton my uniform. "Nein, Ich bin blöd sein. . . "

I can't believe I'm saying this, but. . .

I hate fighting from day to day!