Hi guys, had to bend some of the rules of history/Nazi army ranks to make this story work, apologies!

Kyle's POV

I kept my head down as we were marched through the barren streets. Cold wind whipped around my shoulders, all I was wearing was a white shirt and a red tweed waistcoat, hardly clothes for working.

The women were taken to work on a different section of demolishing buildings, the Nazi's didn't like to entertain the thought of us fraternizing with the opposite sex.

"Marsch!" The German at the first shrieked as we marched along.

There were men positioned all the way down the line, all carrying huge machine guns ready to destroy any man out of line. The soldier next to me had a blank look on his face, as if he didn't want to be there. His blonde hair was swept over to the left side of his head, kept neatly hidden under his peaked hat.

I was staring at him as he walked, I wondered why he was here, I wondered why he hated minorities so much. Brainwashed by a fucking psycho like Hitler no doubt, once a good guy.

"Stoppen!" The fat man at the front held up his hand and his soldiers came to a quick halt.

The man who was stood near me threw out a leather clad hand to stop me walking into the man in front of me, I hadn't heard the command to stop.

We made eye contact for a brief second before he turned away from me, dropping his hand to his side and placing his rifle to lean against his leg.

I heard the spine chilling sound of leather boots pacing the ground, the slow creak of the material as it rubbed together sent shivers up my neck. I stayed frozen with my hands pressed to my side, my eyes staring into the back of the man in front of me's head.

The fat man, I think his name was Cartman, strolled down the line. Humming a German song under his breath as he paced through the terrified prisoners.

Abruptly, I felt a hand on my arm, gripping into me as I was dragged from the line-up, crashing into the blonde soldier as I was placed before the Captain.

His brown eyes shone with a very real hatred, the leather, calf length coat he was wearing was pulled tight against his rolls of fat. Cartman was close enough that I could smell his stale breath as he breathed heavily, taking in everything from my red hair lying flat against my head to the holes in my scruffy boots.

"What song am I singing Jew?" He seethed.

I began to rack my brain for the answer, my throat felt like it was closing and slowly I suffocated on knowledge I didn't possess. My eyes widened and fell to the floor, searching every corner of my mind for the answer.

"Deutschland Erwache," I breathed, remembering the song about the extreme hatred of Jews.

Cartman struck me across the face. I didn't even flinch, this was nothing compared with the beating some men received.

"Deutschland Erwache, sir," Cartman corrected me, shoving his face next to mine as I avoided eye contact with him. He slapped me hard on the back and I stumbled foreward. "Come, sing with me!"

I flushed red as I glanced at the others in the line, not one person was looking at me. They were all trying so hard to blend in with one another, not to be noticed.

"Deutschland erwache aus deinem bösen Traum!" Cartman had begun to sing in a whiny voice that I presumed he thought sounded like the triumphant bellow of a Nazi man.

He paused, allowing me time to join in.

"Gib fremden Juden in deinem Reich nicht Raum." I followed him in song.

Cartman looked down at his feet and then back up at me, a small smile on his face, then he began to laugh. He grabbed me by my waistcoat and pulled me to him until our noses were brushing.

"Fancy that, a Jew singing about how they have no place here,"

He flung me violently to the ground, my hands pushing into the moist mud as I stopped myself from being humiliated, I felt Cartman's boot on my back, lightly at first. He was determined to degrade every inch of me, I tried to resist as the boot increased its pressure, sliding in the mud as I tried to keep my dignity. With a stomp from Cartman my arms buckled and I fell face first into the filth.

"Sargent Major," Cartman nudged the blonde man next to me, and he stood to attention, saluting Cartman eagerly, "I don't want to get blood on my hands," Cartman flexed his gloved hands, making his point redundant.

"Yes sir," The Sargent replied.

"Marsch!" Cartman yelled and the line began moving again.

I turned onto my back, sliding away in the mud as the man advanced on me, his black boots flecking my face with even more mud. Reaching me, he extended his arm and grabbed my shirt, hoisting me towards him, his left hand clutching my shirt and his right balled into a fist and drawn behind his head ready to strike.

He wasn't any older than me, twenty, twenty one? With shining blue eyes that were cutting into my green ones, they matched the clouds that were rolling in around us. Rain began to drop from the sky, speckling my face and making the mud run, he breathed heavily through clenched teeth and I cowered before him. I tried to be ready for the beating, to look into the face of my attacker and smile, but it was always scary.

"I'm going to hit you once," The man said lowly, through his teeth, "I'm going to give you a black eye to prove I hit you and you are going to cry out, got that?" His eyes darted around at the fading figures of the Nazi's.

I nodded quickly and the man smashed into my face, the pain radiated through my head in waves, surpassing my brain until it felt like it left my body. I shouted out into the night, louder and with more anguish then I usually would. Most of the time I would try my hardest to absorb the pain, not let them know that they were torturing me really.

Then the man's hand came down again but this time he let go of my shirt and made a cup with his other hand, hitting his cupped hand instead of me. I watched him perplexed and he kneed my side.

"Yell out," He mumbled and so I did. I kicked my legs and thrashed around.

Out of the corner of my eye I watched as Cartman stared intensely at us, a look of pleasure on his face.

The man pretending to beat me stopped abruptly, I saw a glint of metal and was horrified to see he had produced a small pocket knife. I scrambled away in horror but he grabbed my face with his fingers, holding it in place. I thought he was going to slit my throat right there.

Instead he moved it to my lip and nicked the tender flesh, causing a line of blood to leak away and down my muddy chin.

Then, he put it away and stood up, turning and leaving me in a heap covered in filth. He joined the rest of the line.

"McCormick," Cartman growled, narrowing his eyes at the slender and more together man, "Jews are like cockroaches, if you don't obliterate them, they just keep coming back."

This 'McCormick' person's eyes flashed as he nervously looked back to me, panting ,prone on the ground. I had seen this man kill my friends on command, he wasn't above it.

"He begged for me to kill him Captain," The blonde man lied, "I thought it would be worse to leave him alive,"

There was a moment of intense silence, where the only sound that could be heard was the splashing of rain as the pools the raindrops had created began to grow in size. My life was on the line once again and I was frozen.

Cartman began to laugh, big thumping, mocking, chortles of laughter that echoed off of the decimated buildings, he clasped the Sergeant Major on the back and with a last look at me they walked away.

I fell back into the mud and tried not to convulse with fear and relief and hatred for Captain-fucking-Cartman.

It took longer for me to get back to our hut, when I entered most people were asleep. Including Red.

She was back on top of the bed and another woman was by her side, mopping her brow with a damp, balled up shirt. The girl had long black hair, very pretty. Her name was Wendy and she was in here for being a 'gypsy', she had bonded with Red since they were some of the only women in a group of men. Women stuck together in times like that.

I had gotten closer to Wendy at night times, we didn't really sleep very well and spent a lot of our time chatting. She was a very intelligent, head strong woman who had strong opinions that I very much liked to challenge in the small hours of the morning when everyone else was resting.

"Kyle," She said, her eyes sad as she looked back at Red's sleeping figure, "She's not getting better,"

I walked over, stripping off my waistcoat and kneeling by the girl's bedside. I lifted a hand and felt her brow, it was sweltering hot and clammy, she began to thrash around in her sleep.

"Shh, it's okay Red," Wendy cooed, stroking her tangled hair.

"There's got to be something, a book about medicine, anyone who knows anything!" I knew if we could find the right things we could fix her, I knew people smuggled in equipment maybe if we found out what was wrong we could help.

I felt Wendy's arm on my shoulder. I shrugged her off, I didn't need a comforting hand right now, I need some fucking answers.

"Go to bed Kyle," Wendy told me and I nodded slowly.

Tentatively I took off my shirt, what was once white was now a dirt brown, I sighed, exhausted.

"You can borrow one of Token's, just go to sleep now," She said, taking my shirt from me and watching as I got under the scratching covers.

I didn't sleep though, I spent the night listening to Wendy sing songs to Red and I listened to Rebecca's labored breathing and Wendy's cracking voice and then when Wendy finally fell asleep at Red's bedside I listened to the sound of rain ricocheting off the roof and dripping in through the gaps in the wood; I listened to the sickly girl in the bed next to me whimpering in her deep sleep.