When Leah had decided to become a nurse her father had given her a piece of advice that had shaped her entire career:

"Be strong. You will see people at their worst. In pain, exhausted, frightened and angry. Not at you, but at whatever circumstance brought them there. They will need your strength so that they can regain their own."

With the war coinciding with her entry into nursing there had been no shortage of people to care for. Early on Leah had discovered that she had a particular knack for helping people with recuperation. Her father had been able to give her recommendations, as both of them had agreed that it would be for the best if they did not work at the same hospital, and helped her get placed in a ward that dealt with soldiers returning from the war. By the time that her patients reached her they had usually been stabilized but Leah had found that they were really only beginning their path to recovery.

So many of the injuries that were inflicted on soldiers left them missing parts of themselves. Toes, fingers, legs and arms. Once handsome men were marred by scars and once strong men were left as withered shells of themselves. Young men faced struggling for the rest of their lives while the older ones had to cope with changing how they had always lived. Bringing them back to health and normalcy was difficult but there were few things so rewarding as watching a man walk when he had believed that he never would again. Or seeing a man have the confidence to kiss his wife again and hold onto his children. If only the mental scars were as easily overcome as the physical ones.

Finishing her tea Leah checked her appearance before leaving the nursing station to do her rounds. Appearances were incredibly important here. The right look and attitude made men her own age look up to her as if she were their mother and men twice her age follow her orders as if she were their wife. At least she had some experience with the former having effectively raised her siblings. Some men still thought that they could give her trouble but unlike her family life here Leah knew that she was in control. Even the surliest man soon realized that it would be easier to break through a wall than to make her back down. Putting on a pleasant smile Leah entered the ward as though it were a battlefield.

Today the metaphor was more apt than most. Bad news tended to put everyone on edge and the headline of today's paper had been the worst news that anyone had heard in a long while.

NEW GERMAN WEAPON CAUSES DISASTER OVER BERLIN! CHURCHILL TO ADDRESS THE NATION.

An entire flight of bombers lost during the last raid. Added to that the similar attack on the Pforzheim mission a week or so before and the Germans recapturing Strasbourg at the same time and a pattern began to emerge. Having sacrificed so much already no one wanted to believe that Germany had found a way to drag out the war even longer. Yet men liked to talk to pass the time and invariably the conversations turned to theorizing just what the nature of the new weapon was. Stopping to check on men as she went down the ward Leah ended up hearing most of these theories and it seemed as though each was more outlandish than the last.

"They took a page from the Jap's book. Got every plane they had left and sent them up on a suicide mission, spit in our face one last time. They won't be able to do it again." One legged Thomas said, seemingly to reassure himself as much as anyone else. Had it only been Berlin that might have been plausible but it did not seem very likely given the multiple attacks. If only this had been the last gasp of a dying regime.

"It was a heat ray, like out of that radio show. War of the Worlds. Jerrys are obsessed with their wonder weapons, figures that they finally made one that works." That came from Gerald, the bandages still covering most of his burns making it clear what consumed his thoughts. Leah made a mental note to keep an eye on his state of mind. Suicide attempts had gotten rarer but still came far too often for her liking.

"A wonder weapon for sure, one even more far fetched than that. They call it an ubermensch, a super man." Martin added on top of Gerald. To look at him you would never guess how long the doctors had taken fishing all the pieces of shrapnel out of his belly.

Here Leah paused. Not for the theory, which was as odd as any of the ones that she had heard, but for who had said it. Martin was an officer and usually had a good feel for the pulse of the war through the connections he had still in the army. It was worrying that he would join in with the speculation, especially with such a far fetched idea.

"There is only one Superman and he ain't no damn Kraut. His name is Clark Kent and he's American!" Came a loud retort from Jack, one of the few American patients. As Martin and the others focused on him Jack tried to explain further. "From the comics, you know? I used to read them a couple years back."

The whole group got a laugh out of that, Leah included. Sometimes she forgot how young some of these men were. Much like herself they seemed far older than they were. It could be disconcerting to see a man barely able to grow a moustache trading war stories with men far his senior. While Jack continued to protest his maturity Leah caught Martin's sleeve and led him a few steps away.

"Is it true, what you heard?" She asked quietly. There would be the announcement from Churchill but that was still hours off. Leah did a good job of hiding it from the patients but there were as many butterflies in her stomach as anyone's. Maybe even more, all things considered.

"The only thing I know for certain is that it seems that no one knows for certain what is going on," Martin began cautiously, matching her quiet tone. "But everyone I spoke to who knows even a little bit has used that word."

"I guess we will have to wait for the Prime Minister's speech then. The man certainly knows how to build drama."

"That we will. It is a bit funny though, isn't it? In a morbid sort of way. All this time Hitler and his cronies have been ranting on about ubermensch and untermensch, maybe they were on to something after all," No sooner had the words left Martin's mouth did he click his teeth shut. "Sorry Nurse Cohen, didn't mean it like that."

"I know you didn't Martin. Don't worry, I'm not made of glass," Once people realized that she was Jewish, though Leah hardly tried to hide that fact, they did often try to avoid talking about things that they thought might upset her. News of the camps had been difficult to hear but Leah preferred that everyone know what had happened. Refusing to acknowledge terrible things invited them to happen again. "Though I could use your help. Just try to defuse as many of these conversations as you can. We don't need everyone getting themselves worked up when we don't know what is actually happening."

"Yes ma'am." Martin actually saluted her before making his way back to the group, a man with a mission once more.

Leah just smiled and continued along her rounds while trying to not look at the clock too often. There was enough work to be done without getting herself worked up as well.

It was hours later that Leah found herself out in the crisp evening air. Atop her bicycle she made her way through streets that were much quieter than usual at this time of the day. She had left work late as usual and feared that she might miss Churchill's speech. While she could have tried to catch it at the hospital Leah suspected that Deborah would be home alone tonight and did not want her sister to sit through it on her own. Most other people must have already rushed to find the nearest radio so she was able to make good time.

Pulling up to her family's home Leah could see that indeed the car was still absent. Tucking her bicycle away beneath the stairs she double checked whose shoes were present in the mudroom on the off chance that her mother had arrived home early. No such luck. As was happening more and more lately Leah felt a twinge of frustration. Their mother had taught them how important it was to help other people so why could she never be there for both of her daughters? No sooner had the thought occurred to her than a feeling of shame followed along. She had never been able to voice her frustration so why would her mother expect anything other than what had always been. Following the sound of the radio into the den Leah went in.

Deborah was there, legs pulled up to her chest and arms wrapped around them. She looked frightened. Rushing over Leah took a seat next to her on the sofa and put an arm around her. Seemingly reassured by Leah's touch Deborah rested her head against her sister's shoulder and relaxed slightly. Neither made a sound as the broadcast continued on.

There are many sacrifices yet to come, though our resolve cannot waiver. The Germans believe that these ubermensch will lead them to victory. To that, I say that they are not gods but men. Men with incredible abilities but men nonetheless. Already we have begun to develop countermeasures and though the coming days may be dark I am certain that we will prevail. Years ago I told you that we were at the end of the beginning. Now I can say with certainty that we have entered the beginning of the end and that we will pass through it victoriously.

"So Martin was right." Leah muttered aloud. Of all the things it could have been that was one of the most outlandish. Just how could a man be changed so that he could destroy entire bombing missions? The answer to that was not forthcoming, though something even more shocking was.

It is now with a heavy heart that I must relay to you another piece of bad news. Earlier today my friend and close ally, President Franklin Roosevelt, passed away suddenly.

"No!" Deborah gasped at the news. Even if the man had not been their leader he represented one of the pillars of Allied strength. Leah could hardly imagine how the Americans must feel at the moment, having lost their long time leader and facing a renewed Germany.

His Vice-President Mr Harry Truman has succeeded him. I have already spoken with President Truman and we are in agreement that we are resolved to see this war through. No German superweapon will be powerful enough to save them. So to each and every one of you I say fight on. Our soldiers on the continent and elsewhere will continue to press the enemy at every step. They will need the support of every factory worker, every doctor, every farmer, every teacher and even every paper boy. So long as each of us works as hard as we can we shall overcome this as we have every other disadvantage in this war.

The speech drew to a close and Leah sat there holding on to Deborah as the news followed. Neither of them caught much of that as they thought about what had been said.

"Do you think..." Deborah spoke suddenly, her voice cracking. As Leah looked at her sister she could see the tears forming in her eyes. "Do you think they could really win? After everything that they did? All those people that they killed and even Benjamin..."

As Deborah broke down into wordless sobs Leah embraced her even more firmly. Stroking her sister's hair she made soothing noises until Deborah had quieted.

"You heard Churchill. We have already fought them and we are going to keep on fighting them. You and me and father and mother. They won't win because we won't let them win."

That seemed to calm Deborah a bit, even though Leah was not so sure that she believed what she was saying. In the end she tried to treat her sister like she would one of her patients. Right now she had to be the strong one so there was little time for doubt.

"You're right. You usually are," With a few last sniffles Deborah began to wipe away her tears on the back of her hand. "I made you some sandwiches. Father called earlier and said that he would be home late and so would Mother so not to worry about them. I still thought you might want something."

"Thank you Deborah, that sounds wonderful. But first lets get you off to bed. You'll feel better about all of this in the morning." Gently guiding her sister up off the couch Leah managed to get her up the stairs and to her room. It was strange, Deborah was technically an adult now but Leah still could only see the little girl that had fearfully listened along to news of the declaration of war years earlier. Leaving Deborah to ready herself for bed Leah returned downstairs to retrieve the promised sandwiches and then retreated to her own room.

When working on the ward Leah felt like a strong and confident leader. Working around the house she at least felt like a reliable rock that everyone else could lean against when they needed to. It was only here in the solitude of her own room that she felt like she could stop worrying about others for a while and focus on herself.

She kept things well organized which was a small miracle in and of itself. Spending all of her waking hours outside of this room hard at one form of work or another it was a terrible irony that she kept herself just as busy while alone. Various handicrafts and projects graced her shelves and desk. Usually coming home meant trying to figure out just which one she wanted to work on first. Today there was only one thing that it could be.

Stopping first to eat part of the sandwich Leah then got out the paper she had picked up earlier. Getting out scissors and paste she took one of her many scrapbooks down and flipped through it. These had always been a way for Leah to organize the memories of her hectic life. This particular book had been begun at the start of the war and chronicled the major events throughout. It was almost full and now she worried that she might run out of room before the war was over. A silly concern considering what was at stake. Carefully clipping out the headline she got to work on cleaning it up and mounting it precisely on the next blank spot available. Finishing she had the rest of the sandwich as she tried to figure out how to occupy herself next.

Inevitably Leah's gaze turned to the nearly completed scarf that rested half-hidden at the far side of the shelf. It was supposed to have been a holiday present for Benjamin, something to keep him warm while he was deployed. He had been in North Africa previously and on his last visit home Deborah had teased him mercilessly about how he would freeze solid having to march through the snow. News of his death had come before Leah could finish the scarf and now it sat there, taunting her. There were some problems beyond her power to fix.

Flipping back through the scrapbook she looked at the last photo they had taken with him. Between his pale sisters Benjamin's deep tan and ill-advised attempt to grow a moustache looked almost comical. Even Father had laughed about it. That had been the biggest source of tension before Benjamin's death. Neither of their parents had approved of him joining the army. Though both had suggested different options they had felt that he would have been much more valuable working here on the home front than carrying a rifle around on the battlefield. He would have been much safer too. Yet Benjamin had been determined to serve his country. To her deep regret Leah had sided with him during the argument and encouraged him to join the army. Even though he still would have done it without her approval she wished that she could take those words back.

Further back there was the picture of Benjamin right before he had been sent off for training. He was in his uniform, smiling and standing tall with his arms around Leah and Deborah's shoulders. Seeing him like that had been why she could not bring herself to try and talk him out of it at the time. Nothing in his life had made him so proud as standing there ready to fight not just for Britain but for his people everywhere. After all he had said that if everyone just stayed home then the Germans would never be defeated.

Finally Leah picked up the framed photo that she kept on her desk. It was older, from when she had still been taller than both her siblings. All three of them standing there without any worries about the world at large. Long before any of them had ever heard of a death camp or the word genocide. Carrying the photo with her Leah walked over to her bed and sat down on the edge. Cradling the photo to her chest she felt tears start to roll down her face. Tears for her dead brother and the innocence that they had all lost. She had to stay strong but how could anyone be strong enough to face this?

"Why in God's name did you let me drink so much last night?" Patrick asked Al as he sat with his head cradled in his hands. It was far too early in the morning to be walking around with this kind of hangover but they had been roused from their beds and marched down to this infirmary. As to why was anyone's guess and Patrick was not in a guessing mood.

"You're a grown man, you can decide when you've had enough to drink. Besides you were pining after your French girly so we thought you might as well have something to keep your mind off of her." Al responded plainly as ever. Sometimes Patrick wanted to sock the man in the jaw for being so practical.

"I was not pining. You meet somebody special over here you want to remember it." Truth was he did miss Amelie. Considering that they might all be facing their deaths now who would not want to focus on one of the bright spots.

When they had been told about the German enhanced humans at first Patrick had thought it was some kind of weird joke. The way his sergeant had come down on him for cracking a remark about it convinced him that it was not. They had been rushing to be deployed until this sudden stop.

"Marshman, Al." The nurse called and Al got up and followed her into the next room.

That meant that Patrick was next. He wondered what was going to be done. There would probably be a needle involved considering that there was a nurse. God only knew how much Patrick hated needles and that was when he did not already feel like his stomach was trying to crawl back up his throat. Taking deep breathes Patrick wondered if it was possible for him to recuperate in the few minutes before it was his turn.

It seemed like he had barely taken the first breath when Al was coming back out holding a cotton ball against his arm. Needles it was.

"O'Connor, Patrick." The nurse called. She was a looker at least.

"Keep everything down and I'll get you some hair of the dog." Al was monotone as ever but Patrick flashed him the two finger salute that he had picked up from the Brits as good measure. He was supposed to be the funny one.

"Alright Mr O'Connor, you can take a seat on the table there. I'll need you to roll up the sleeve on your right arm." The nurse said as she prepared a new syringe.

"Ah, not to be a complainer or anything but I'll let you know I really hate these shots. Any chance you could just say that we did it? I am sure that I could find some way to repay you." Patrick tried turning on his charm the best that he could. It was a bit difficult when the room seemed to sway a little bit every now and then.

"Well that might be tricky as this isn't a shot. I need to take a blood sample," When she came over to him she did not look particularly sympathetic. He really must have been off of his game today. "I just need to tie this off and you'll been done quick enough."

Wincing a bit as the needle pinched his arm Patrick looked away. He had seen men die and get torn up but the sight of his own blood being drawn still made him queasy. "So what are they hoping to find in there? Cause mine might still have some whisky in it."

"I'm afraid that's classified soldier." She replied before taking the needle out and setting to the side.

"How about your name?"

"You can go and wait with the others, we have a lot of men to go through today." At least she smiled while taking him out the door. Sitting back down next to Al Patrick just shook his head. Hung-over, getting blood drawn and striking out with a lady. This day was already shaping up to be just dandy.

"Does this all seem a bit coincidental to you?" Al asked all the sudden.

"How's that?"

"First they light a fire beneath us to get up north and fight whatever these German tank guys are then they pull us all off to the side to get some blood drawn? Is there something else we should be worried about?" It was a day for surprises after all. Al had now cracked a joke and sounded worried in the same conversation.

"You think to much pal. The only thing you should be worrying about is getting me something to squash this hangover with."

Al just snorted beside him then they sat there and listened as other men were called up. As dull as it was it sure beat racing headlong towards some kind of new enemy weapon. At least until someone screamed in the back. Everyone waiting looked around, worried about what had happened. Not a minute later a few officers came barrelling out.

"Which one of you is Patrick O'Connor?" The lead man said. All of them looked shaken up.

"That would be me sir," Patrick cautiously stood up. "What's happe-"

"Come with me." Without a word of explanation Patrick was grabbed by the arm and marched along into the back. As they went along the hallway another nurse was being rushed along, her face covered in cuts and blood.

"Is she going to be alright?" Patrick asked as they kept up a brisk pace. Just what was going on here?

"Don't you worry about that. Now they are going to need to draw another sample of blood. Just sit down and keep quiet for now." The officer ordered as he brought Patrick into a room where a few doctors were waiting. At least Patrick assumed that they were doctors given the white coats, one of which was also flecked with blood.

"This should just take a moment." One of the doctors said as he came over with another syringe. Unfortunately he did not have as gentle a touch as the first nurse had. As soon as they had the sample everyone save for an MP disappeared out into the hallway.

Sitting there in silence Patrick started to sweat. What if Al was right? Maybe he had caught some kind of crazy disease but that would not explain whatever had happened to that nurse. There was a small boom from nearby, Patrick jerking his head towards the source. He felt like he had been woken up into some kind of terrible nightmare.

The man who came in next was new but the first thing that registered in Patrick's mind was a whole lot of stars on his lapels. Getting up to his feet he saluted the general though he could not place who the man was exactly.

"At ease son. Now I know that you are bound to be a bit confused right about now but we'll be telling you everything that you need to know soon enough. I just wanted to be the first to tell you that you are going to be a hero. God knows we need one right now." The General said as he stepped forward and clasped Patrick's hand, giving it a hearty shake.

Standing there shocked Patrick could hardly make sense of anything that had just gone on. All he was able to get out was one word.

"What?"