I Did Nazi That Coming

The wind was freezing and even under a heavy coat, I was still shivering.  I looked out over a sea of people, each stripped naked and forced to stand at attention.  They were told they were getting de-loused, but really it was a veiled attempt to separate them from their possessions and group them into labor units.  I stood silently, listening to the yells of fellow officers and the screams of women clinging to their children who were being herded to their own section of the camp.  I took a long drag of my cigarette and blew the smoke out slowly.  It had taken a while, but I had finally stopped caring.  At first, having this job was something that kept me up at night, refusing to allow my eyes to close without images flashing through my mind.  The other men joked about the people in the courtyard and even the fact that they didn’t care what happened to them.  I had thought them to be evil… but now I understand what they mean.  Looking at them still gave me an uneasy feeling, but at least I could sleep at night.

Just as I was about to turn around and head in to the barracks, I heard a scream behind me.  I turned around and was quickly bombarded by a young lady.  I reached for my gun, but then I realized that she wasn’t attacking me; she was begging me.  I stared at her and she grappled onto my coat, her naked body against me.  She kept repeating the same thing over and over again.

“My daughter, my daughter!  Don’t let them take her away!”  I just stared at her, not knowing exactly what to do.  Her eyes were filled with tears but she refused to quit jostling me.  I didn’t push her off… how could I?

Suddenly, I felt her cold body leave me.  She was on the ground, lying on her back in the snow.  I almost began to reach down and help her up, but a sharp bang rang out.  Her body jumped up a bit, but then ceased its movement all together.  I stared at her.  The blood pooled on the ground and spread out in all directions.  I took another drag of my cigarette, flicked it into the snow near the body, and began my walk to the barracks.

~~~

The room was silent except for the soft chirping of birds.  I felt a cool breeze roll over me and I let out a sigh of relief.  I could feel pools of sweat on the bed sheets and beading down my forehead.  I shuddered at the thought of the dream I had just had.  It had kept me up for weeks and was part of the reason I filed for insomnia with our camp doctor.  It was by far the most common illness our soldiers faced and honestly, no one really did anything to fix it.  Sometimes sleeping medication was given out, but most of the time, we were just told to attend church and try to clear whatever burdened our conscience.  Well, I never took any sleeping pills…

The pain in my stomach was somewhat better, but it still ached as if I had been in a fight with a dwarf.  The itching had stopped, but I could definitely feel the cloth still draped over my head.

Even though the itching stopped, I still felt very antsy.  I didn’t like not knowing where I was and my mind pleaded for me to open my eyes.  I pulled my arm up and once again, was stopped by restraints.  It felt like course rope that was pulled as tight as it could go.  It was clear that these people did not want me to escape.

And then a realization dawned on me.  Oh yeah, I don’t have hands anymore.  I flexed my muscles again, desperately trying to feel them.  Perhaps they had just fallen asleep last night and I would feel the gangly appendages twiddling about in the air.  Sadly, I did not.  I almost wanted to cry, but in all honesty, I felt like I was out of tears to shed.

For a moment, I contemplated what to do next, but my solutions were limited at best.  I could try to escape, but for one thing, even if I did get out of these harnesses and on my feet, I probably would have a hard time opening the door… that is, if they didn’t leave it locked.

I was tired, and at the time, my body urged me to just give up.  I obliged.

“Hello?”  I called out in a very hoarse voice.  It sounded as if I had been yelling, but it was probably just from being choked a few days ago…

“Hello?”  I said louder.  “Is anyone there?”  There was a muffled voice coming from outside the door and it promptly opened up after my call.  Two people walked in. Why is it always two people?  Do the military police always accompany visitors into a POWs room?  And what was with their feet?  It sounded as if they were wearing clogs.

They stopped in front of the bed.  “Hello son, how are you today?”  It was the same doctor that I spoke to before.

I gave a weak answer.  “I feel… better.”

“Well that’s good.  I was worried you would never wake up.  You’ve been asleep for nearly two days.”

Two days?  Has it really been that long?

“By the way, can you tell me where you’re from?  I’m not sure I can identify that accent.  I don’t have anything down in your chart… oh, and can I get your name too?”

“Dusseldorf,” I replied instinctively before immediately regretting what I had said.  They didn’t know who I was and I may have just given away my only way out of this.

My head swam, but a thought began to tug at my head as if to politely request that I ask the doctor something.

“What are you going to do with me?”  I asked.  The room suddenly became quiet.  The tension between the three of us was thick.  I could tell.

“What am I going to do with you?  What do you mean, sport?  I’m not going to do anything to you.  You’ve already had your surgery.”  I wanted to give him a stern look to show him that I didn’t appreciate his joke, but my face was still covered by the sweated soaked cloth.

I sighed.  “I mean… what is your friend standing there going to do with me?”

The doctor moved around a bit, obviously looking at the MP for an answer.

“Who?”  He lied.

Anger filled my voice.  “You damn well know who!  The MP that’s here to make sure I don’t kill anyone.  The one that’s going to take me to a camp as soon as I can walk!  The one who’s been watching me this whole time!”  I breathed heavily, catching my breath after my outburst.

I felt something touch my shoulder where it had been caressed earlier.  The same stroking motion was applied as I calmed down.  It felt good.

“Calm down son…  Everything’s going to be alright.  I don’t know where you were before they found you, but I promise that no one is here to hurt you.  All I care about is for you to get better so you can go back home to your family.”

My family…  Momma and Papa.

I felt tears begin to form in my eyes.  They were home in Dusseldorf, hopefully safe from all of the war.  It had been two years since I had left to volunteer.  I never said goodbye.

“T-thank you,” I said.  My mouth tried to form more words, but I couldn’t think of anything to say.  I chalk it up to fatigue.   “Thank you,” I finished.

He gave me a light pat, obviously taking care not to put me in too much pain.

“Now,” he said.  “I know you’re probably really antsy to get out of bed, but I can’t let you undo all of your stitches.  But how about we take off your face bandages.  I think the cuts have healed by now and I know you want to see where you are.”  I nodded in reply, eager to finally see the man who had saved my life.

I felt a soft jostling as he struggled to untie the cloth around my face.  I felt the sweaty rag taken away and instantly, a soft breeze rolled over my clammy face.  Slowly, I struggled to open my eyes and one by one they popped open, having been sealed shut by dried tears.  My vision came into focus and a large white figure came into view.

It was small room that resembled an old hospital.  An itchy looking green blanket covered my body so I couldn’t see my handless limbs.  Around the room I could see various instruments that all looked relatively bloody from use… probably on me.  On the table beside me, I could see a small scalpel that felt eerily familiar to me, though I had never seen it before.

Before me stood a small white horse, leaning over the side of the bed and eyeing me curiously.  It didn’t look quite like a horse though.  It looked sort of… creepier.  It had larger eyes and what looked like a smile across its muzzle.

Maybe this was the sound of clogs, I thought.  A strange image of the doctor riding in on this thing crossed my mind.  It almost made me laugh.  Who brings a horse into a hospital?

It was a little bit strange, but honestly, I was more disturbed that the doctor who I had just heard was no longer there.

“Hey.  Where did you go?”  I called out.  The small horse shook his head a little bit.  He looked very sympathetic.

“…I’m sorry sport, I didn’t know you lost your vision.”

My heart began to sink.  With a look of horror, I shifted my gaze to the white horse who seemed to be checking some papers in his hooves.  It just occurred to me that he was wearing a lab coat… and a stethoscope.  My pulse hastened its tempo and I started to panic.

“W-w-what the hell!?!”  This outburst seemed to catch the doctor’s attention as he looked at me curiously.  “D-did you j-just talk?”  I was shaking uncontrollably.

“Yes,” he replied.  “So you can see?  I thought you just said you couldn’t.”  He noticed my shivering.  “Just calm down sport, you’re going to have a heart attack.”

“You’re a horse!”  I shouted.

He gave me an angry look.  “I’m not a horse, thank you very much.  I’m a pony.”

“You can talk!”  I stated.

“Of course I can talk.  Why wouldn’t I be able to speak?  I’m not a mute, and you’ve been talking to me for ten minutes.”   Even though his muzzle was moving and words were coming from it, it still didn’t make it any more believable.

“You’re an animal!  You shouldn’t be able to talk!”

“What are you going on about?”  This time, I believe he had a look of disbelief on his face.  “Everypony can talk.  I mean, you’re talking right now,” he deadpanned.

“I know I’m talking!  I should be able to speak, but you… you’re a fucking pony!”  My language seemed to make him cringe.  He looked puzzled at my comments… or at least I thought he was.

“I think you may have suffered some severe head trauma…  You’re not making any sense.”  I was about to respond, but then I realized what he said made sense.

I was hallucinating.  I wasn’t talking to a pony, it’s just that I thought I was.  Something must have hit my head pretty hard for me to see this.  Now the question is: Am I really talking to a doctor, or is this still some figment of my imagination?  I decided that I would still treat it as if I were talking to a real doctor; just one with hooves.  I let out a weak laugh.

“Doctor,” I said before letting out another chuckle.  “I think you’re right.  I am seeing things.  For a second, I thought I was actually speaking to a pony!  That would be ridiculous.”

He turned back to me, having been trying to make his way to the door.  “Son… what in Celestia’s name are you talking about?”

“I said, I thought you were a pony!”  I let out another large chortle.  This time, it hurt my chest which was still pretty sore.

“I think you’re a little more delusional than I thought…  Maybe you just need some more sleep.”

I stopped him.  “Actually, do you think I could get out of bed?”  I was suddenly very serious, even though it was pretty ridiculous to be talking to a pony.  “I’m pretty antsy and I’ve been lying in a puddle of sweat since I woke up.

He looked at me with a face that displayed contemplation.  Without another word, he trotted (ha) and rolled down the blanket that had been covering me.

And that’s when I started to panic again.

“Was zum Teufel!?”  I started.  The doctor only stared at me.  I, however, was busy standing at my body.  Small, grey, and covered in fur…

“I… what…”  I was speechless.  I suddenly began to feel something else.  I could feel the short hairs bristling against the sheets.  I could feel the furry tickle around my lips.  I could feel the panic button being broken in my head.  This was no hallucination.

“I-I’m a pony?”  I asked no one in particular.

“Yes?  Did you not know you were a pony?”  The doctor eyed me suspiciously.

“NO!  I AM NOT A PONY?!”

He continued to watch me.  “Son, I don’t know what happened to you, but you most definitely are a pony.  Actually, you’re a unicorn to be more accurate.  What exactly happened to you out there?”

“Shut up!”  I snapped.  “Unicorns don’t exist!  You don’t exist!  You shouldn’t be talking right now and I should be dead!   This is all some sort of dream.  Yeah, it has to be a dream.  I’m not really talking to a pony, I’m not really in a hospital, and I am most definitely not a unicorn!”

I realized just how loud I was screaming when two other ponies, one pink and one yellow, filed into the room.  They looked concerned over me and looked at the doctor inquisitively.  He waved them off, turning back to me.  It had been about a minute from my moment of panic and I couldn’t stop looking at my body.  My… fur was light grey and you could easily make out the stitches across my stomach and up into my chest.  At the bottom, they were beginning to pop and a tiny bit of blood was beginning to ooze from the wound.  I breathed heavily, trying to gather some air before going off on another line of shouts and questions.  The doctor, however, came very close to me.  Once again, he placed his hoof on my shoulder.

“Sport, you need to calm down.  Now, I can’t help you if you don’t stop yelling at me.  So, are you done or should I get the nurse in here to cast an anesthetic spell on you again?”  I looked at him in the eyes.  They were…warm in a way.  Much too big, but warm.  He turned his head and noticed the blood seeping from my stomach and quickly covered it with a rag.  It hurt a little bit, but he put a small amount of pressure on it.  I winced.

“A-are you… really a p-pony?”  I asked.

“Yes, son.  And you are too.  Now, I know you’re just a little afraid right now and I think it has something to do with what happened before we found you; but I need you to just calm down while I re-suture these wounds.  Do you think you can do that for me?”  His voice was deep and pervaded a sense of ease to the area around him.  It just felt… right to trust him.  I gave him a weak nod.

With that, he reached over to the bedside table and picked up a long metallic tool with a hooked needle on the end.  Using his teeth, he began to carefully navigate the needle until it lined up with the cut.  I winced as he made the first prick.  My stomach was still very sensitive so it probably hurt worse than if it were just a normal cut.  After a few minutes of needlework, he put the tool away and cut the string with his teeth.  I let out a sigh of relief and he once again returned to my side.

“Okay, now that you’re all sewn up again, I think it’s time for you to sleep.  You look as if someone bucked you in the head.  Does that sound fine to you?”  He was very careful with his words.  He did not want to set me off again.

I took in a deep breath, but no words found their way through my mouth.  I realized just how tired I was when I yawned.  I gave him a nod and let my head fall completely into my pillow.  With the blanket off, I wasn’t quite so hot, but the fur kept me warm.  Sleep beckoned to me, begging to join it in its lazy slumber.  I obliged.