"Montag, April 30 1945
1520 Zeit.
The sounds of battle are here.
The Bolsheviks are less than one mile away now. The time is now.
The Rhineland is in tatters, The luftwaffe has nowhere to go, The Kriegsmarine rest at the bottom of the Atlantic.
All that remains of the once glorious Wehrmacht litter the streets of Berlin, I can hear their screams of terror from the bunker.
The capital, Home of the Reich is in ruins, Not a single structure stands.
The Reich is at an end.
It is over.
There is nothing left."
Adolf placed his pen upon the table, Closed his diary and walked away. The stench of damp hung heavily in stale bunker air.
He struggled to open the heavy bulkhead doors. Adolf had become exceptionally weak over the past few months and try as he might, He couldn't open the door. One of the guards rushed over to help, Adolf looked into his eyes, The terror in the young boy was palpable. He could not have been a day over sixteen.
Adolf rested his hand on the shoulder of the young man; "Leave now, escape whilst you still can. Head south towards the American lines, you will be safe. If you see any Bolsheviks, run, fight if you must but do not let them capture you."
The soldier clipped his heels, saluted his leader and ran off down the passage to freedom.
Adolf drifted through the living complex of the bunker, Any non essential person he found was told the same, Leave and head south. Adolf knew he would have no such luxury, Only his death would end his living nightmare. He made his way into the lounge where he took a seat, The memories of the earlier days came flooding back. The invasion of Poland, The crushing of France, All were sweet memories of earlier times, All seemed so far away. Adolf made his way over to the cabinet and poured himself a drink. It was wine he was saving for the final victory. He sat back down to wait for the end.
There was a sudden rise in the sound of gunfire, It was right outside. The Russians were here. Adolf scurried towards his room, His most loyal men were running in every direction, Now they had no chance of escape. A massive explosion on the surface dislodged small fragments of concrete and dust. Everybody was coughing and choking on the dust caused by the explosion. he panic continued as Adolf made his way past the armory, Soldiers were being handed out rifles and ammunition, It was finally here, the end of the Third Reich.
"Show the Bolshevik dogs no mercy, For the fatherland" Adolf forced out between bouts of coughing.
Adolf noticed a cold rush of air, Dust was being sucked backwards down the corridor, The bunker door was open, The Russians were inside. The roar of automatic weapon fire picked up, The soldiers were fighting for what little was left of their lives. Hitler managed to return to his study, The adrenaline of the situation had given him the strength to force open the heavy doors. Adolf staggered over to his writing table, He knew what must be done. The luger sat in the drawer, beckoning him, It was time. He sat down in front of his diary to make one last note.
"The Bolsheviks are inside, It is time"
Adolf raised the gun to his head, Ready to awake from this nightmare. He hesitated. At that moment, a squad of Russian soldiers burst through the door and ripped the gun out of his hand and threw him to the floor. Hitler tried to force the Russians off of him to no avail, The fate that awaited him now was much worse than he could have imagined. Adolf was dragged out of the bunker by his feet, Banging his head on every stair and crater on the floor. The bodies of his men were everywhere. The smell of cordite was heavy in the air, This burned his eyes no end. Adolf hadn't seen daylight in a whole month, This combined with the sting of cordite made sure he couldn't open his eyes.
The men dragging him stopped. He heard footsteps going past, followed by multiple sharp kicks to the side of his head. Hitler was lifted up and felt himself leaning against a post. His arms were tied behind his back, He knew what was about to happen. The sound of footsteps coming close were a surprise at this point.
"Open your fucking eyes you bastard" demanded an unknown voice.
Adolf did not comply. This was met with the beating of his life, The pain racing through his body was intense.
"Last chance" the unknown man ordered.
Hitler strained to open his eyes, The pain of the beating combined with the harsh sunlight made this a difficult task.
He was stood in the remains of the garden, Destroyed by war, The only colour was brown. Before him stood a tall figure in Soviet commissarial dress.
"Good" stated the man, The hatred in his voice was unparalleled; "As per field marshal Konev's orders. Adolf Hitler, You stand accused of crimes against the soviet nation, You are found guilty and sentenced to death by firing squad"
The man stood turned around and marched to the end of the garden.
"Firing Detail, form up!" Screamed the commissar, A squad of men marched into the garden and stood before him.
"Firing Detail, Right turn", The squad turned on the spot to face Hitler, They stared at him with malicious pleasure, All relished in the opportunity of killing him.
"Any last requests" asked the commissar.
Hitler thought quickly; "Can I scratch my moustache, Its itchy"
The commissar laughed, He walked over. scratched his moustache with his sidearm and returned to his position at the side of the firing squad.
"Firing Detail, Ready, Take aim" boomed the commissar.
The squad lifted their rifles and took aim. At that moment, Adolf's moustache became incredibly itchy, He began to fidget in desperation to scratch it before the end.
"Firing Detail..." The commissar was interrupted half way through by a high pitched scream, Adolf's moustache was glowing bright purple.
"Firing Detail, FIRE" roared the commissar. There was a deafening bark, Time seemed to slow to a crawl as the rounds raced towards him. He blacked out, It was over.
"What the hell? Where is he?" Questioned the commissar, Hitler had vanished. The smell of ozone was overpowering.
Something had happened, He was nowhere to be seen.
"Now about you two. For starters, Clean up this mess, What do you think spike, Should I give them a number 25?"
"Ooh, A number 25, I think I deserve one too"
"I think your right..."
There was an almighty bang, Hitler found himself lying on the soft grass looking up. Above him was a small green object with a fu-man-chu moustache and a brown object with a moustache that looked rather similar to his own.
He reached up to his mouth to have a feel, Still with the terrible itch, His moustache was gone...
