I found myself laying in bed at 19:00 staring at the dark ceiling. It was sometime in October, time crawled slowly and the days kind of ran into each other. Things weren't too eventful.

Germany and I left soon after our victory. We didn't wait around for all the laws and ceremony and hoorah that came with a conquest. We had a war to plan, and to be brutally honest, I was excited. Poland had fallen quickly, and after Austria and Czechoslovakia, it seemed luck was on our side.

Now, Poland, just like he had shown many times before, didn't just roll over without a fight. It was much more like a rabbit defending its baby from a hungry wolf. The rabbit would fight tooth and nail to save its child but no matter how hard it fought, the wolf would get it's fill.

My brother and I, we were wolves.

Lord, my brother. I raised him from a child, borne of unusual circumstances, borne from the corpse of a dead nation. Isn't that odd? For so much of history I've seen things break and fall apart, but with him, to see a collection of small kingdom states join together and say, "yeah, I'll work with my enemies of hundreds of years." That's something.

I mean, to put the credit where it's due: that was all me; but that kid, he's gonna have an interesting future. A bright one.

He's shown it in battle. His actions in Warsaw took me completely by surprise. Maybe he was spontaneous (doubtful) or maybe he was trying to mimic what I would do (why wouldn't he?), but he needs to be his own man, he's not reckless. However, I did admire his courage. I wonder who he got that from?

Eventually I must have fallen asleep because when I woke up the sun shone through the curtains and I could hear children playing outside.

Getting up was not something I wanted nor planned to do, but like I did most days, I got up and readied myself for another day of the usual nonsense.

I was not pleased to walk down the stairs and Austria be the first person I see.

He was the only one who resided here permanently besides Germany and I. He didn't do a goddamn thing, just mooch and schmooze.

He was part of Germany now so certainly he could do more than just sit on his ass. We were the most formidable of the axis. Hungary, Bulgaria, Romania, Italy, Japan, we held meetings while he just sat on his ass and picked at his teeth.

Well, luckily I was able to walk past him without him noticing, due to his nose being buried in a book about who the fuck cares.

I entered the kitchen where my brother sat at the table reading the newspaper and wearing his uniform. Nothing off at all besides this little scab he still had on his chin from the battle.

"What grand things is my little brother up to today?"

"An important meeting."

"And I'm not invited?" I'm not sure what else I expected. I tried be sarcastic in my question because I didn't blame my brother for this, but Hitler denoted me to a state and I fumed for years. A state! He kept me out of decisions and meeting and strategies. I knew best after all, right?!

"Can you sneak me in?" I nudged his side with my elbow a little and took the seat across from him.

"You know I'd love to." He paused, "I'll tell you all about it later." Germany got up, grabbed his coat, and headed out.

"What the fuck?" I shouted after him. It was like I was the oldest at the family reunion who wasn't allowed to sit at "the big kid table."

Well, my little brother left me to fend for myself (not always the best idea), and without anything else to do but come into contact with Austria, I took a walk.

We lived in a nice row house in the busy South part of old Berlin, near a square that held markets almost everyday. Today was one of those days. It was October, Autumn, which had to be one of my favorite seasons. The trees rot in such a way they managed to make a symphony out of death. The kids enjoyed it too. I watched as they ran around the markets pissing off old people by throwing leaves into the fruit stands and getting a lot of angry shouts called after them.

There was so much history in this city. So much I remembered vividly and a lot I wished I could forget. If the cobblestones under my feet could talk they'd be able to tell some crazy stories. Festivals, family, famine, plague, battles, the best of which always involved me.

My walks often led me to places I didn't mean to go to. However, the building I found myself in front of was not at all unfamiliar; it's spires and red bricks brought back fond memories. Of course, it wasn't the most impressive church in Berlin, but it had been there long before I could remember. The doors were wide open and I could see the white vaulted ceilings, the stained glass windows, and the large ornate altar. In all honesty, the place gave me the creeps. I walked away.

It had been a few hours since I had arrived home and the sounds of Bach played from the back of the house where Austria sat despite my many requests for him to "shut the fuck up". I managed to make myself lunch and was currently sitting in the living room reading when the front door opened. I didn't have to turn my head to know it was Germany who had walked in.

"What was the meeting about?" I asked and got no answer, just the sounds of the piano in the background. I looked up from the newspaper and saw my brother staring at the floor. He looked like he was debating whether or not to tell me.

"Ludwig, I'm your brother, not a stranger or a spy."

He hung his coat up and said, while still facing the wall, "They are talking of an invasion of France."

I paused in shock. "Ah, France. The same France we got stuck in for four years?" Once again I tried to be sarcastic but came off as frustration. That worked too.

"Yes, they want to invade through Belgium and push back the French to the River Somme." He was his usual calm in this explanation.

I stood up and put my hands on the coffee table in front of the sofa. "That's the plan? We're just going to repeat 1914? Were you not there?!"

Someone grabbed my wrist and I looked over to see my brother, looking very worried. "Gilbert, sit down." I didn't.

"No one likes the plan, not even Hitler." He paused, seeing me ease up. "But Hitler does want to invade France, just not that way. I'm with him, he hasn't been wrong yet." Germany looked so sure of himself that I had a hard time believing he wasn't right. Maybe he was.

"That doesn't mean he won't be wrong this time!" I screamed. Even if Germany was right, and I believed he was, he still needed to learn to be skeptical.

"I trust him. He's a fantastic leader who is going to do great things for this country."

I paused. "We should think about this. Time, war takes time."

"Not anymore! You saw Poland, this is a new kind of war, we could have Europe in our hands, brother!" He was giddy again and it was getting to me. I smiled and I guess I was still drowsy because his excitement had gotten me worked up. Maybe this could go right, of course, only if I was involved.

I walked away from that conversation not exactly sure where my stance was. I completely agreed with Anschluss, Sudetenland, the invasion of Poland, and his action with the Jews. But France? Hitler was a mad man, a crazy genius. Germany was right, he hadn't been wrong yet. He was greatly improving the nation, and I would forgive anything for the nation.

Of course, we had our land back, which was our original goal but Hitler was hungry, and I had always had a big appetite. I've never been satisfied. I'd go along with it, for now.

Months went by and only once or twice was I permitted to sit in on the plannings of the invasion. They were hectic. Some wanted this others wanted this. Old or new, fast or slow. It was a nightmare and I put in my five cents, sometimes loudly, but it rarely amounted to anything.

After months of not being heard, I came up with the conclusion that I was no use in a meeting room anymore. At the same time, some time in January, an invasion of Denmark and Norway was planned completely without me. I looked it over and found it wasn't too bad, of course I could have done better. Maybe I could be of a little more use up north, so I volunteered.

I would be leaving tomorrow.