Historical Fiction

It's during the time when Hitler was in power

Little Warren

It was the year of 1940, and dear little five year old Warren Bernard was sitting in his house, listening to the news with his parents. It was announcing the terrible tragedy of Hitler’s plans, slowly taking over every part of Poland. The radio was announcing the need of more men to join the army.

Warren’s father, unfortunately, Jack Bernard, was a private in the army, which meant that he had to go back to the war. His marriage with his wife wasn’t going well so he only came back to visit his son for Christmas. And now, he was heading back.

Jack stood up and began packing his bags when he felt a small hand tug on his old worn out coat. He looked down to see Warren’s big sad eyes looking back up at him.

“Don’t go, Daddy,” he said softly, eyes full of tears. Jack frowned down at him, his stomach filled with regret. He didn’t want o leave his five year old boy alone again. He didn’t want to go back to that dark, pitiful place. He’d rather stay home, reassuring his son that it would be okay, that he would be safe from Hitler’s messed up grasp. But he knew that the only way to reassure that was to go back into that battle, head held high, ready to give up everything for his family. For his country.

Reluctantly, Jack pulled out of Warren’s reach and gently pushed him towards his mother. Smiling softly at his family for what seemed to be for the last time, he turned and walked out the door, not having the will to look back and see his son’s betrayed face.

Jack was soon in line on the streets, waiting with hundred of other men who’s fate all seemed to be the same. There was a knot inside Jack’s stomach as he looked around to see all the familiar faces in line. There were some of his neighbors in line next to him. Philip… Thomas… John…. He even spotted one of his old childhood friends from school.

“Attention!” shouted a strong built man. He marched up and down before the men, his face strict and eyes cold. Every man quickly became silent, standing at attention for the boss. The Sergeant stood still, eyeing every person in the eyes before clearing his throat and yelling to them which person would be grouped to where.

Jack stood tall, listening for the Sergeant to name where he would go, when he heard a small yell from the distance. It sounded like… Warren. And it was getting closer and closer to him.

Jack quickly spun around to see his son running towards him as quickly as his little legs can carry, and his wife following close behind. The Sargent became quiet, watching. When Warren finally caught up to his father, he threw his arms around him, gasping for air.

Jack glanced anxiously up at the angry Sargeant and swallowed hard. He pulled Warren off of him, squared down, and stared him in the eyes.

“Warren,” he said slowly, “I have to leave now. I thought that I told you to stay home with your mother.” He looked up to see his wife was looking down at him, all out of breath from trying to catch Warren.

Warren looked back up at his father, sweat pouring down from his little face. He took a deep breath before babbling on about something that Jack couldn’t understand.

“Please don’t bust chops, daddy,” he said, eyes filled with tears. “But I saw him today, daddy. I saw him!” Jack burrowed his eyebrows.

“Who did you see?” He asked, confused.

“I was playing,” Warren explained. “I was playing and I saw him.”

Jack frowned. Was he talking about his imaginary friend again? Did he run away from his mother just to tell him this?

Just then, a loud boom exploded through the air. Jack’s eyes widened in horror as he saw the blood stain through his child’s shirt. It all seemed to go in slow motion for him. He watched Warren’s face whiten as he collapsed to the ground, motionless. Warren’s mother let out a loud scream when she had realized what had happened as well. Warren had been shot.

Quickly, nurses and doctors rushed to his aid, trying to take the bullet out of his chest. Everyone looked around frantically trying to find out where the shooter had been, but nobody could find anything. A half an hour went by and Warren’s heart finally stopped beating. This was the worst moment of Jack’s life. And he always wondered what exactly had Warren been trying to tell them.

Little did they know, if Warren hadn’t been shot, the war would have ended right there and then. Little did anyone know… Warren had found exactly where Hitler had been hiding.