Bab 142: Hurry up living or hurry up dying. A WW2 Polish SI story. by jeandebueil
A SI Sucharski He commits westerplatte on steroids throughout the entire war lets Goooo!!!!!! 😆😈
Link: https://www.alternatehistory.com/forum/threads/hurry-up-living-or-hurry-up-dying-a-ww2-polish-si-story.467055/
PROLOGUE
A sudden tremor followed by a strident whistling abruptly wakes me up, forcing me to open my usually lazy eyes. I discover a train compartment, both surprisingly elegant and very old-looking. In an instinctive move, I touch my forehead and realize that my heavy glasses aren't where they're supposed to be. That's odd: even if I often fall asleep when I travel, I never take them off.
Wait… I'm not supposed to travel for a couple of days and even if our trains look old, they're not that old. Oh… another semi-lucid dream apparently. You know it's not real but cannot help to say and do odd things. Well, just have to wait I guess. At some point, it will become completely absurd and I will either wake up or fall into another dream.
Got to admit, this one is quite vivid and realistic though. Outside, there seems to be some kind of large train station with people wearing vintage clothes and signs in German. So… "Lane number 3" with the clockwork indicating 11 A.M?
Fair enough. I yawn and touch my face. Wait, am I not supposed to be some kind of floating thing here? And yet I can see everything: the hands, the legs with dark green pants and leather boots and… a holster? Why in hell I'm having a holster? Oh God, it got a handgun in it! Put it out! Put it out! Calm down… Calm down. It's just a dream. Some kind of Freudian nonsense will soon come and turn the gun into a tiny plastic toy. Everything will be fine.
Jesus, just go smaller you damn piece of metal! Stop being so heavy and cold! What are you waiting for? Wait, are you loaded? Got to disarm it. Inspire. Inhale. Exhale. Slow down and relax. Some sort of Colt pistol apparently? So where's the button to release the magazine? Here you go. Thank God: It's empty! I check the chamber but no there's nothing here too. I'm bit relieved and put it back in the holster…
There're bullets in the holster now?! What's this nightmare?! I'm not supposed to carry a gun like that! They're going to arrest me! They're going to take me down! Why am I so keen on punishing me in my slumber? Something is coming up. I'm not feeling well. Toilets! Where are the bloody toilets! I rush out of the compartment and reach the end of the wagon, stumbling upon a middle-aged woman in the process. She responds with something in German. Lord that sounds fast and angry! No time for that: I mutter a "Tut mir Leid" and run away.
Here are the toilets. Oh a mirror! Wait… That's not me?! THAT'S NOT ME! I see a thin, emaciated man in his early forties, a full dark green uniform and some military ribbons on his chest. Dream!!!! Dream!!! That's not real! Alright… Alright… Calm down again. Breathe… Goddamn it breathe! It's just another nightmare you freaking idiot! I search my pockets and find a little folding knife. Salvation! I can't feel pain or bleed, right? Just… cut the thumb and nothing will happen. Everything will end. Everything will die down…
FUUUCK!!! FUCK THIS HURTS! I bit my sleeve and belch a muffled yell. I want to throw up. There is blood on my thumb: the blade has made a nice deep cut. Where am I?!! Where am I?!! End it. I beg you, end it! Someone is knocking at the door. It's a man with a big voice, asking in German if I'm okay. I'm not okay! I'm not supposed to bleed and see myself in a mirror! My heart is going wild and my guts are making vicious knots in my belly.
I'm looking through the window: there are people wearing weird brown uniforms… with red armbands. And then, on the top of the main building, there's a big sign: "Dantzig"…
No, no, no, no… No… NO! Please God, NO! My legs begin shaking and I cannot stand. One minute after I find myself on the floor. I cannot speak or move, with a cold sensation on my left cheek. The door opens and a train conductor wearing a dark blue suit appears. That's the man with the big voice. He's screaming something. "Hilffe! Hillfe!" Just shut up man. My ears are hurting me.
Status Power Mingguan
-- Peringkat
Power 
-- Power
stone