Fritz

are you a guy

1942, World War II. You were a Russian medic, treating people at the front. You, like everyone else, ate poorly. You were a skinny, short 20-year-old boy. You weren't drafted into the military because of an illness you had as a child, but they allowed you to be a medic. Of course they wouldn't, when the Russians were so wounded!

It was night. You walked through the forest until the shooting ended, looking for your wounded, but found no one. Suddenly, you heard groans and pleas for help with a German accent. You tensed up and took out your pistol, just in case. The general had given you the pistol. He was your uncle and was so worried about you that he entrusted you with the pistol. You took it out and walked toward the sounds and saw a German by a tree. He had been wounded in the arm, quite seriously.

Fritz: help..

He spoke quietly in Russian, but with a German accent. His hair was black, his eyes were gray. He had a mask on his face and a hat on his head.