Sometimes inspiration comes at inconvenient times. It's almost 4.30 am as I publish this.

This will be a historical two-shot about Germany invading the Netherlands in World War Two. And.. a Mof is a Dutch insult for a German. Always wanted to use that word in a story. xD

xXx

"Tell them they can go back to sleep," the nation groaned as he stared at the map of Europe. The map of Europe which was decorated with red little pushpins; mainly in Poland. One of his commanders behind him scribbled something down on a paper.

"Why?"

"It's a false alarm. Again." Every time Germany told him he would invade. Every time he had been ready for it. Every time nothing happened. He actually hoped this would be the last time. He hoped this was just an act to intimidate him. He hadn't been in war for already hundred years. He declared himself neutral! Germany would respect that, wouldn't he? The Netherlands knew his neighbour wasn't to blame. It was his neighbour's boss to blame. However, it was so easy to say it was all Germany's fault.

"Fucking Mof."

"Sir?" A general addressed the Dutch nation.

A sigh could be heard. "Ja?"

"What are you going to do about the German spies?"

The question earned him a glare. The spies were of great concern, though. They had been using the observation posts of one of his zoo's and forests, being completely out of sight. They only caught a couple of them, but there were probably more.

It would be more difficult for the Germans to spy on the Dutch defenses if the Dutch nation wasn't so stubborn. They could've closed the observation post in his zoo. They could've chopped the trees nearby the look-outs, but they didn't do it. Only because of the money. It was always about money. This time he made a huge mistake; it was one of the reasons the Netherlands would be invaded. One mistake that would cost a lot of money and a lot of lives. But, as they didn't know all this back then, nothing was done about the observation posts.

Without giving his general an answer, the nation searched in his pockets for a cigarette. He didn't care about the non-smoking policy in headquarters; if he needed a smoke, he was going to get one.

"He isn't going to invade the country," the Netherlands stated. "We've had so many false alarms.. I don't believe it anymore." It was April 1940.

"But Sir, it wouldn't be a good idea to lower our guard. He's an unpredictable man. Adolf H - "

"Don't say his name," one of his higher ranked marine officers hissed. He'd lost a good friend a few months ago when two British agents got captured. One of the first victims of the war with Germany. The general never got the chance to apologise, though. The group was interrupted by an overexcited but worried man, who later turned out to be an air-pilot for the KLM, the Dutch royal airline.

"Sir!"

"What is it?" the nation asked while he dropped some of the ash from the cigarette on the floor. If he only knew what Germany was doing. If he only knew what was going to happen. He really hated not knowing what the other was planning. How could he possibly prepare on something unexpected?

"The Germans are after the airports, general." Only his highest ranked officers knew who he really was. For most soldiers he was just 'another general'. The pilot told him his story. He had seen it all. He had seen how Norwegian and Danish airports were so easily overpowered by the enemy. If they stationed just a battalion of soldiers by each airport, they would be able to keep the airports in Dutch hands. The Netherlands quickly ordered his general to take care of the five main airports in the country. After that, there was little they could do. They knew too little to know anything at all. The enemy was like a crocodile. The crocodile was there, motionless. It was yet unknown when the beast decided to open its mouth.

The crocodile opened one eye on 9 May 1940.

"Sir?" The nation stared sleepily at one of his marine officers. "What? Need me already? Can't let an old senile fossil have some sleep, hm?"

One glance on the face of the Dutch admiral told him there was something bad going on.

"The Germans will be invading the country the following day, sir."

The Netherlands was not impressed. "It'll be a false alarm." He closed his eyes, wanting to go back to sleep, but his officer grabbed him firmly by his arm.

"What if it's not? What if it's real?"

This man was said to be a good strategist. Why wasn't he acting like one? There was always a chance they would be attacked. Why was the nation taking such a risk? Didn't he care for his land and his people? Truth was, he did. A bit too much at that very moment. "Trust me, it's a false alarm. There's no need to take it serious." He heard his admiral sighing deeply, as if said officer was trying to keep his anger under control.

"Are you losing your head sir? Even the tiniest chance of being attacked should make you wary. You know that all too well!"

"This war is different. It's a threat. Nothing will happen. But if you're that worried, go ahead. Tell the soldiers at the front there's a chance there'll be an attack," he simply responded. The Netherlands opened his eyes again to glance at his marine officer. "There's no need to alarm the other battalions though. We'll fight them off at the front if they come."

The man nodded at his words and left the room. A decision was made. It was a wrong one.

Several hours later, the nation woke up in the middle of a chaotic headquarters. People were running, others studied maps of specific regions and the radio was turned on.

"What's wrong?" he asked at the officer nearest by.

"What's wrong? Six German trains crossed the border, that is what's wrong." The Netherlands suddenly was fully awake and looked somewhat white. Oh no. This was not good. This was the kind of message he wished he never would get. He quickly put on his jacket and wanted to go outside to check the sky, when the radio creaked. The whole room went dead quiet when the voice told them several hundred planes from an unknown country coming from an eastern direction were coming their way. The minister of War was the first person to speak.

"Ridiculous! This will only cause panic."

One of the younger men looked up at the minister. "Actually… I just got a conformation. It's true. It's the Luftwaffe."

The Netherlands had heard enough. After he quickly put on his boots, he made his way to the door, but got blocked by one of his officers.

"Where do you think you're going, sir? There's nothing you can do."

The nation glared at him. "Exactly. I'm stuck in Den Haag. There's nothing I can do. I'm going to the borders."

"Sir, you can't - " another began.

"Don't tell me what to do. Now get out of my way." He pushed the man away and opened the door, only to be greeted with a gun. Apparently the government knew him a bit too well. Knowing he had no choice, he stepped back inside, sighing, anger rising.

"I am sorry. We need you here," his prime minister responded when he sent an furious look at the man. He handed the nation a map of two of his provinces, Gelderland and Overijssel. One of the three main rivers, the IJssel, was one of the few natural barriers the nation had. The Netherlands sat down and stared at the map; several places were marked.

"Bridges?" he asked.

The minister nodded. "The Germans will probably try not to destroy the bridges, as they are necessary to cross the river."

"Blow them up," he responded coldly. "Tell the soldiers to get off the bridges right now." Soon after that, the bridges by Westervoort and Deventer were no more, after as Dutch officers disguised Germans tried to make the inflammation unusable.

At six a.m. Dutch time, they received a message. The crocodile has moved.